OUT  OF  DOORS 


OUT  OF  DOORS 


BY 

EMERSON  HOUGH 


NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 

1915 


COPYRIGHT,  1915,  BY 
EMERSON  HOUGH 

COPYRIGHT,  igis,  BY  CURTIS  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


TO 

J.  B.  H. 


20371, 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  YOUR  VACATION 3 

II.  THE  CAMPER'S  OUTFIT 31 

III.  VACATION  NUISANCES:  How  TO  PREVENT  THEM      .  61 

IV.  IN  THE  JUNK  CLOSET 81 

V.  THE  WOMAN  IN  CAMP 109 

VI.  UNCLE  SAM'S  SHOES 129 

VII.  MOUNTAIN  CAMPING 143 

VIII.  YOUR  CANOE  AND  ITS  OUTFIT 167 

IX.  HINTS  AND  POINTS  ON  TROUT-FISHING     ....  189 

X.  YOUR  BIRD  DOG:  How  TO  USE  HLM    .     .'.     .     .  211 

XI.  YOUR  GUN:  How  TO  HANDLE  IT 235 

XII.  YOUR  CAMPFIRE  How  TO  USE  IT 253 

XIII.  GETTING  LOST  AND  WHAT  TO  Do  ABOUT  IT  ...  269 

XIV.  THE  FACULTY  OF  OBSERVATION 285 


VII 


I 

YOUR  VACATION 


I 

YOUR  VACATION 

HOW  and  where  shall  one  spend  the  summer 
vacation?  The  answer  to  that  is  not  so 
easily  to  be  read  in  the  stars  as  it  is  in  the 
pocketbook.  Having  arranged  the  elemental,  general 
or  fundamental  principles  of  the  proposition  with  the 
boss,  the  next  thing  to  do  is  to  consult  the  ultimate 
oracle  which  carries  the  coin.  Sometimes  that  oracle 
says  that  you  must  be  content  with  a  week  or  so  at 
some  farm  not  far  from  the  city,  where  the  farmer 
has  grown  too  tired  to  work  and  so  runs  a  "resort," 
mostly  by  his  wife's  labor,  he  himself  doing  little 
but  tell  how  good  the  fishing  used  to  be.  There  are 
grades  in  the  country  farm  and  the  country  resort, 
all  nicely  adjusted  to  catch  the  vacation  dollar.  But 
after  all  a  hammock  is  a  hammock,  and  almost  any 
place  where  you  have  leisure  is  good  enough  for  lark- 
ing if  you  are  young,  or  for  loafing  and  smoking  if 
you  are  old.  You  can  board  in  a  resort  for  a  dollar 
a  day,  or  ascend  the  price  scale  until  you  pay  four 
hundred  a  month  for  a  cottage  in  the  North  woods, 
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OUT  OF  DOORS 

where  papa  gets  out  almost  every  other  Saturday 
night  if  he  has  luck  and  does  not  like  it  better  in  the 
city. 

As  to  localities,  there  never  was  any  country  laid 
out  better  for  vacation  purposes  than  these  same 
United  States.  All  the  way  from  Maine  to  Oregon 
there  is  a  grand  summer  country  lying  ready  and 
waiting  for  you,  and  in  that  country  you  can  get  al- 
most any  sort  of  game  you  want,  from  log  cabin 
or  tent  to  cottage  or  swell  hotel.  Summer  resorting 
has  been  brought  to  a  science  in  every  one  of  these 
Northern  pine  countries  where  lakes  and  streams 
are  numerous.  From  Allegash  to  Glacier  Park,  from 
Manitowish  to  the  Rogue  River  Valley,  even  in 
upper  Dakota — or  even  in  lower  Saskatchewan  or 
Alberta — you  will  find  a  summer  country  waiting  for 
you,  and  in  it  some  person  or  persons  who  have  made 
ready  for  your  coming,  generally  minded  to  transfer 
your  coin  from  your  pockets  to  their  own. 

The  ability  to  scent  a  round  iron  dollar  in  any 
weather  is  not  confined  to  the  East  or  the  Middle 
West.  Even  in  the  remotest  fastnesses  of  the  Rockies 
you  will  find  that  your  vacation  has  been  all  thought 
out  and  planned  for  you  by  someone  on  the  ground. 
There  has  always  been  a  fascination  for  Eastern  folk 
in  the  ranch  life  of  the  West.  Each  year  there  are 
many  Western  resorts  advertised  as  ranches,  which 
4 


YOUR  VACATION 

offer  the  attractions  of  horseback  riding,  fishing,  etc. 
One  such  circular  comes  from  the  Big  Horn  Moun- 
tains, as  an  instance,  and  there  are  others  from  differ- 
ent parts  of  Colorado.  There  is  no  better  exercise 
than  horseback  riding^  and  there  is  no  bluer  sky  or 
better  air  than  that  of  the  high  plains  or  the  foothills 
or  the  mountains.  The  guides  out  there  will  tell  you 
how  abundant  the  big  game  used  to  be,  and  how  large 
the  trout  once  were.  At  least  the  mountains  are  as 
abundant  and  large  as  they  ever  were,  as  restful  and 
logical  and  consoling  and  rejuvenating.  It  is  hard 
to  beat  the  mountains  for  a  vacation,  if  the  oracle 
of  your  pocketbook  allows  the  thought. 

Most  of  us  go  North  in  the  summertime  rather  than 
West,  in  part  because  of  the  change  of  climate,  but 
more  because  of  a  proximity  to  the  larger  Eastern 
cities  of  the  attractive  vacation  countries  of  the  North 
woods.  Perhaps  you  may  pass  your  week  or  two 
weeks,  your  month  or  two  months,  in  some  Northern 
country  where  once  there  were  pine  forests,  and  where 
yet  the  trees  stand  tall  and  the  water  runs  clear  and 
cold,  and  you  need  a  blanket  at  night.  This  is  not  to 
say  that  only  Northern  folk  have  summer  vacations, 
and  that  all  Northern  folk  go  north.  There  are  many 
mountain  districts  in  the  Southern  states  which  are 
delightful  in  the  summertime;  and  all  along  Cali- 
fornia the  summer  seashore  life  equals  that  of  the 
5 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

winter  season  which  is  better  known  to  the  Northern 
tourists  who  go  thither. 

Whatever  be  your  choice  of  a  vacation  ground  you 
go  there  as  a  transient.  Perhaps  you  go  to  a  large 
hotel  more  or  less  badly  run,  or  to  a  small  one  yet 
worse  managed.  There  is  benefit  even  in  that,  al- 
though you  will  put  up  with  inconveniences  there  that 
you  would  not  tolerate  at  home — bad  beds,  bad  food, 
bad  water,  bad  service,  and  a  certain  amount  of  danger 
from  disease.  It  is  only  the  loyalty  of  vacation  folk 
to  the  vacation  idea  which  sometimes  makes  them 
stoutly  asseverate  that  they  have  had  a  perfectly  bully 
time  when  their,  time  would  have  been  just  as  bully 
had  they  stayed  at  home  in  a  cool  cellar,  or  camped 
out  near  the  bathtub. 

Everyone  to  his  own  taste  and  in  accordance  with 
his  own  means  in  these  matters.  To  me  it  seems 
an  easy  guess  that  a  vacation  will  be  better  if  it  af- 
fords an  absolute  change  of  scene  and  manner  of  life. 
Moreover,  one  will  get  more  good  out  of  a  vacation 
not  passed  in  a  crowd.  Your  family,  for  instance, 
will  rest  better  if  you  have  a  little  cottage  or  a  big  tent 
all  of  your  own  than  if  you  divide  two  or  three  small 
rooms  in  an  hotel.  Perhaps  they  will  enjoy  it  yet 
more  if  you  go  farther  into  the  woods  and  turn  your 
hotel  cottage  into  a  log  camp  on  some  less  frequented 
water.  Or,  as  you  advance  in  vacation  skill,  and  as 
6 


YOUR  VACATION 

your  wife  becomes  used  to  life  in  the  woods — which 
the  kids  always  like  without  fail — you  may  shake  off 
civilization  altogether  and  take  to  the  tent  where  you 
do  your  own  cooking  and  your  own  work.  This 
latter  proposition  is  more  apt  to  appeal  to  bachelors 
or  to  young  men  who  go  in  small  parties,  although 
it  is  entirely  practical  for  a  family.  Again,  everyone 
to  his  taste ;  but  to  me  it  seems  that  the  tired  business 
man  can  get  about  as  good  a  run  for  his  vacation 
money  in  this  way  as  in  any  other. 

If  you  go  to  a  summer  resort  you  don't  need  any 
hints,  points  or  suggestions.  Just  take  all  the  money 
you  have,  borrow  some  more,  give  it  all  to  the  hotel 
people  and  then  walk  home  and  try  to  forget  it.  The 
main  memory  you  will  have  of  your  vacation  is  the 
general  feeling  that  other  people  have  more  diamonds 
than  your  family,  and  your  wife's  assurance  that  she 
can't  see  why  that  Smith  girl  should  be  asked  oftener 
to  dance  than  your  own  daughter  Eileen. 

If,  however,  you  wish  to  take  the  plunge  into  camp 
life  in  your  vacation  season  there  are  some  things 
which  perhaps  you  might  well  consider  in  advance. 
For  instance,  what  is  the  best  all-around  tent?  The 
answer  to  that  is  that  there  is  no  best  all-around 
tent,  any  more  than  there  is  a  best  all-around  rifle 
or  shotgun.  It  all  depends  on  where  you  go  and  what 
you  do. 

7 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

The  vacation  en  famille,  more  or  less  permanent  in 
location,  is  apt  to  indicate  a  wall  tent  as  the  vacation 
home.  Indeed,  the  wall  tent  is  the  typical  tent  of  the 
white  man.  He  built  it  as  near  like  a  house  as  he 
could,  with  upright  sides  and  ends  and  a  sloping  roof 
running  down  from  a  ridge  pole.  You  can  get  wall 
tents  from  six  feet  square  up  to  forty  feet  long. 
Some  of  them  have  board  floors  and  boarded  sides, 
and  sidewalks  in  front  of  them.  In  some  of  them  you 
can  stand  up,  and  in  others  you  cannot.  Some  of 
them  are  heavy  and  some  are  light.  In  short,  in  this 
one  model  of  tent  you  have  a  great  range  of  choice. 

The  main  virtue  of  the  wall  tent  is  its  roominess. 
It  will  do  as  a  sort  of  house  if  it  rains.  You  can 
keep  it  warm  if  it  grows  cold,  and  by  putting  a  fly 
over  it  you  can  keep  it  fairly  cool  when  the  weather 
is  warm  outside.  But  at  the  same  time  most  wall 
tents  are  close  and  stuffy.  The  air  does  not  seep 
through  canvas,  especially  when  it  is  damp.  You  will 
have  to  use  the  wall  tent  as  you  do  the  hall  bedroom 
at  home — open  the  windows  and  leave  the  door  ajar. 
That  means,  perhaps,  mosquitoes,  which  in  turn  opens 
up  a  series  of  questions. 

Tent-makers  have  improved  in  their  work  steadily, 

but  in  one  essential  they  seem  not  to  have  improved 

at  all — that  of  ventilation.     Some  maker  of  everyday 

wall  tents  is  going  to  make  a  big  business  success  one 

8 


YOUR  VACATION 

of  these  days  by  building  wall  tents  with  good  ventilat- 
ing windows  in  them ;  windows  covered  with  mosquito 
bars.  At  present  it  is  only  in  the  specially  made  tents 
that  you  can  get  good  ventilation  or  good  protection 
against  insect  pests. 

The  mosquito  pest  has  spoiled  many  a  vacation  for 
a  woman  or  even  a  man.  If  you  do  not  sleep  per- 
fectly at  night  your  vacation  is  a  failure.  As  a  general 
rule  it  is  not  enough  to  have  head  nets  to  wear  at  night. 
That  is  an  uncomfortable  way  of  putting  in  the  night. 
Your  whole  tent  should  be  mosquito-proof  if  you  are 
in  the  mosquito  country. 

Most  city  folk  think  it  is  enough  to  drape  a 
mosquito  bar  carelessly  across  the  front  of  the  tent. 
Perhaps  they  close  half  of  the  open  end  of  the  tent. 
That  means  that  they  swelter  and  suffocate  if  the 
weather  is  warm,  because  very  likely  the  tent  is  not 
provided  with  mosquito-proof  ventilating  windows. 
You  can  buy  a  tent  which  has  a  bobbinet  front.  Again 
you  can  buy  an  inside  tent  of  mosquito  netting  or 
cheesecloth  which  can  be  tied  to  the  ridge  pole  inside, 
and  dropped  down  over  the  beds  at  night.  All  this 
shuts  off  a  certain  amount  of  air.  In  general,  there- 
fore, it  is  a  good  hint  to  study  your  wall  tent  and  its 
possibilities  before  you  adopt  it  as  your  vacation 
home. 

Of  the  methods  above  suggested  that  of  the  inside 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

net  is  the  best.  The  edges  of  this  inner  tent  should 
be  heavily  shotted,  so  that  it  will  lie  close  to  the  floor. 
You  can  help  this  out  by  putting  the  rod  cases,  or 
articles  of  furniture,  on  the  edges  of  the  tent  netting. 
Of  course,  you  have  to  lift  the  edge  of  this  net  when 
you  come  in  at  the  tent  door,  and,  of  course,  then 
some  mosquitoes  come  in  with  you.  And  of  one 
general  proposition  you  may  rest  pretty  well  assured — 
no  tent  is  mosquito-proof  which  does  not  have  a  floor 
sewn  into  it.  The  best  sod  cloth  and  inside  net  ar- 
rangement you  can  devise  will  let  some  mosquitoes  in 
around  the  edges  in  spite  of  all,  unless  the  floor  is 
sewn  to  the  walls  of  the  tent. 

It  is  just  as  well  to  hearken  a  bit  about  this  mosquito 
business,  for  your  comfort  in  camp  in  the  average 
wilderness  vacation  is  hurt  more  by  mosquitoes  than 
it  is  by  cold  or  rain.  Now  there  are  men  who  live 
in  these  countries  all  the  time  and  carry  on  work.  In 
far-off  Alaska,  all  over  the  Rocky  Mountains,  in  the 
country  of  the  wet  Pacific  slope  far  to  the  north  where 
mosquitoes  swarm  in  millions  and  constitute  a  pest 
such  as  is  not  known  by  average  Easterners,  men  live 
and  work,  do  prospecting,  mining,  engineering,  rail- 
road building,  packing,  traveling,  not  as  sport  but  as 
a  business.  They  are  obliged  to  sleep  at  night  and 
sleep  comfortably,  or  they  could  not  carry  on  their 
work.  Naturally  it  is  to  some  of  these  professions 
10 


YOUR  VACATION 

that  we  might  well  turn  to  get  knowledge  on  the 
mosquito  question. 

The  general  principles  of  the  ideal  mosquito  tent 
have  been  accepted  by  Eastern  manufacturers,  but 
the  most  perfect  mosquito  tent  I  ever  saw  I  ran  across 
this  summer  for  the  first  time.  It  was  made  in  a 
Western  city,  after  a  design  said  to  have  been  invented 
by  a  member  of  the  Geological  Survey  in  Alaska.  If 
it  will  work  in  Alaska  it  will  anywhere.  The  material 
was  not  of  heavy  duck,  but  a  light  Egyptian  cotton 
sometimes  called  balloon  silk.  In  size  seven  by  seven, 
very  high  in  the  ridge  pole  and  on  the  walls,  the  tent 
in  its  bag  weighs  only  about  twelve  pounds.  A  light 
waterproof  floor  is  sewn  into  it.  Both  ends  are  sewn 
into  it.  On  each  side  there  are  two  large  netted  win- 
dows, affording  abundant  ventilation.  There  are  flaps 
arranged  for  these  windows  which  can  be  buttoned 
down  in  case  of  rain. 

In  each  end  of  this  tent  there  is  yet  another  large 
window  for  ventilation.  The  roof  projects  three  or 
four  inches  all  around  over  the  walls,  making  eaves 
which  keep  the  water  out  of  the  open  windows  in 
case  of  rain.  The  front  door  is  not  a  door  at  all, 
but  a  hole,  round,  and  not  triangular.  This  hole  is 
fitted  with  a  sleeve,  like  the  trap  of  a  fyke-net,  the 
sleeve,  or  funnel,  itself  being  made  of  light  material. 
You  crawl  through  this  hole  and,  so  to  speak,  pull  it 
ii 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

in  after  you  and  tie  a  knot  in  it.  At  least  there  is  a 
puckering  string  by  which  you  can  close  the  bag  which 
makes  the  entrance  of  the  tent.  Once  inside  it,  you 
have  a  large,  roomy  house  in  which  you  can  stand  up 
with  comfort,  lay  down  your  beds  in  comfort,  and 
do  light  housekeeping.  No  mosquito  can  get  at  you 
unless  you  brought  it  in  on  your  clothes.  In  case 
you  have  done  that  you  can  put  a  wet  sock  into  opera- 
tion. At  first  you  will  think  the  tent  a  little  close,  but 
soon  will  see  that  the  ventilation  is  perfect. 

There  are  variants  of  this  mosquito  tent  used  in 
Alaska,  some  of  them  A  tents  of  heavy  duck  provided 
with  one  window,  high-up,  mankillers  of  the  worst 
type.  But  the  tent  made  as  above  is  practical.  It  can 
be  pitched  rather  quickly.  Make  your  bed  of  boughs 
or  leaves  or  whatever  you  can  get  on  the  ground. 
Throw  your  tent  on  top  of  it.  Peg  the  bottom  out 
loosely  at  each  corner.  You  do  not  put  the  ridge  pole 
inside  the  tent  at  all.  The  roof  runs  up  in  a  cone, 
in  which  is  a  line  of  grommets,  or  big  eyelets  let  in 
the  canvas.  You  can  run  a  rope  through  this,  or 
lash  the  top  to  a  ridge  pole  above  the  tent.  Use  two 
crotches  at  each  end  of  your  ridge  pole,  and  roughly 
hoist  your  tent  to  its  full  height.  Crawl  inside,  throw 
your  war  bag  into  one  corner,  your  bedroll  in  the  other 
and  have  your  chum  do  the  same  to  his.  This  will 
hold  the  floor  in  shape  well  enough  for  the  night,  and 
12 


YOUR  VACATION 

it  is  all  the  work  of  only  a  few  moments.  If  your 
camp  is  permanent  you  can  take  more  pains  with  the 
pitching.  You  can  buy  a  tent  like  this  in  one-man, 
two-men  or  four-men  size,  and  the  largest  will  not 
weigh  more  than  the  little  A  tent  of  heavy  duck 
which  you  used  to  use  for  smothering  purposes  on 
hot  nights.  I  am  strong  for  this  wall  tent,  much  as  I 
dislike  wall  tents  in  general,  because  it  has  abundant 
window  space  in  it,  and  because  it  will  afford  a  good 
night's  sleep  in  any  weather  or  any  amount  of  mosqui- 
toes. So,  if  you  plan  tent  life  in  the  North  woods, 
you  might  do  very  well  to  keep  your  eye  on  this  sort 
of  wall  tent. 

In  some  of  the  far  Northern  countries  mosquitoes 
come  in  assorted  sizes,  some  so  large  that  they  will 
bite  through  a  rubber  glove  and  others  so  small  that 
they  will  go  directly  through  an  ordinary  mosquito 
bar.  I  think  that  even  in  our  lower  latitudes  a  good 
many  mosquitoes  will  crawl  through  the  ordinary 
mosquito  bar.  Bobbinet  is  better,  and  English  cheese- 
cloth is  still  better.  A  good  bed  net  is  made  with  a 
canvas  top,  say  three  feet  by  six,  with  shotted  sides 
six  or  eight  feet  deep,  made  of  cheesecloth.  It  sounds 
a  little  stuffy,  but  it  keeps  them  out. 

In  northwestern  Canada  travelers  use  what  they 
call  a  mosquito  tent.  It  is  not  much  different  from 
a  very  large  bed  net.  It  is  pitched  with  a  ridge  pole, 
13 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

and  stands  about  three  feet  high.  You  erect  this  over 
your  bed  and  crawl  in  under  it.  The  walls  are  of 
cheesecloth,  or  bobbinet.  This  gives  you  good  air  and 
protects  you  from  dew  as  well  as  mosquitoes. 

You  should  not  forget  your  fly  dope,  of  course, 
whether  you  be  angler  or  camper,  but  in  very  bad 
fly  country  dope  is  no  defense — you  will  have  to  use 
netting  or  a  mosquito  tent.  In  Africa  the  safari  out- 
fitters give  you  bed  nets  which  are  slung  from  the  roof 
of  the  tent,  the  sides  dropping  down  around  your 
bed.  Your  tent  boy  tucks  in  the  edges  when  you  go 
to  sleep.  That  is  all  right,  unless  you  get  the  netting 
loose  during  the  night.  The  beauty  of  the  mosquito 
tent  above  outlined  is  that  you  don't  get  the  netting 
loose.  Another  great  advantage  is  that  you  do  not 
hear  the  buzz  of  the  mosquitoes  close  about  your  ears, 
as  you  are  bound  to  do  if  you  use  a  bed  net. 

You  can  get  tents  in  all  sorts  and  shapes  embodying 
the  best  of  the  foregoing  principles,  sometimes  with 
the  floor  sewed  in  and  sometimes  with  inside  nets 
rigged  to  drop  down  all  around.  I  tried  one  of  these 
small  shelter  tents,  triangular  in  shape,  running  down 
to  a  point  behind,  last  fall  on  a  hunt  where  mosquitoes 
were  bad.  I  fitted  the  tent  with  a  net  of  bobbinet. 
There  was  no  floor  sewn  to  the  tent.  Two  of  us  oc- 
cupied this  tent  and  we  did  our  best  to  keep  out  the 
mosquitoes.  They  got  at  us  in  spite  of  all.  Such  a 
14 


YOUR  VACATION 

tent  will  do  in  good  country  and  good  weather  where 
there  are  few  mosquitoes,  and  where  the  transporta- 
tion is  so  bad  that  you  cannot  have  a  better  tent.  The 
argument  for  it  ends  about  there.  It  is  better  on  paper 
than  on  the  ground.  As  much  is  true  of  many  other 
patent  inventions,  ingenious  as  make-shifts,  but  not 
accepted  by  the  professional  outdoor  men  as  useful 
in  everyday  work.  If  you  are  walking  and  carrying 
all  your  own  outfit,  and  like  to  think  you  are  pretty 
hardy,  and  are  not  apt  to  be  much  bothered  by  insects, 
you  can  take  one  of  these  little  tents,  which  only 
weighs  four  or  five  pounds.  In  good  weather  condi- 
tions such  a  tent  is  comfortable  with  a  campfire  in 
front  of  it.  In  bad  weather  conditions  it  is  not  com- 
fortable at  all,  and  as  a  summer  home  or  a  vacation 
rendezvous  it  is  not  to  be  commended. 

Of  course,  all  these  matters  bring  us  to  the  two 
basic  factors  in  any  vacation — the  pocketbook  and  the 
transportation.  The  sort  of  transport  you  have  must 
determine  to  some  extent  the  sort  of  vacation  you 
are  going  to  have  if  you  are  to  live  in  camp.  In  a 
dry  country,  almost  any  sort  of  tent  will  do  you,  and 
the  one  which  is  most  open  to  the  air  is  the  best  one 
for  you.  There  are  many  forms  of  these  shelter  tents 
in  open-front  models.  One  is  called  the  baker  tent, 
because  its  roof  and  walls  are  set  at  the  angles  of  a 
reflector  oven.  It  is  a  healthful  and  pleasant  tent 
15 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

even  in  cold  weather,  for  you  can  have  a  good  fire  in 
front  of  it  and  so  keep  warm.  Your  catalog  will 
show  you  such  tents  also  made  with  porches  and  with 
floors  sewed  in.  Perhaps  you  can  leave  the  flap  open 
and  put  in  a  door  of  your  own  made  of  bobbinet  or 
cheesecloth.  The  main  thing  is  to  get  all  the  air  at 
night  you  possibly  can.  The  better  your  transporta- 
tion facilities  the  better  your  tent  may  be.  Men  live  in 
tents  all  through  the  summer  in  New  Brunswick, 
Nova  Scotia,  Labrador,  Alaska,  the  subarctic  country 
of  the  Yukon — because  they  know  how  to  live  there. 
By  using  a  little  judgment,  therefore,  you  also  will 
be  able  to  live  out  of  doors  in  comfort  in  your  selected 
country  in  almost  any  sort  of  conditions  which  are  apt 
to  occur. 

In  the  West  I  have  always  liked  the  Indian  lodge  as 
the  best  outdoor  house.  That  is  the  Indian's  basic 
idea  of  a  tent  as  against  the  wall  tent  which  the  white 
man  makes.  One  is  conical  and  the  other  rectangular. 
But  the  tepee  is  by  no  means  mosquito-proof,  even 
though  sometimes  filled  with  smoke  at  night.  Of 
course,  you  could  rig  bed  nets  in  a  tepee  as  well  as  in 
any  other  kind  of  a  tent.  Ventilation  in  a  tepee  is 
better  than  in  the  white  man's  tent,  and  it  is  roomy 
and  comfortable.  At  the  same  time,  it  is  bulky  and 
heavy,  and,  in  fact,  impossible  for  the  average  vaca- 
tion. If  I  were  going  into  the  Rockies  for  a  perma- 
16 


YOUR  VACATION 

nent  camp,  I  would  use  a  tepee,  because  I  think  it  is 
the  most  practical  of  the  aboriginal  homes.  Some  men 
do  not  like  them.  They  are,  of  course,  out  xof  the 
question  for  the  average  camper  in  the  East  or  North. 
Indeed,  they  are  not  much  used  by  vacation  people 
anywhere. 

Your  vacation  home  ought  to  allow  comfort  in  any 
sort  of  weather,  and  sometimes  the  weather  gets  wet 
and  cold  in  summer.  The  worst  thing  about  a  wall 
tent,  next  to  its  ventilation,  is  the  difficulty  of  getting 
it  dry  and  warm.  For  this  reason  an  ingenious  man 
has  invented  a  wall  tent  in  which  one  whole  side 
lifts  up  into  a  porch,  so  that  you  can  have  a  fire  in 
front.  Of  course,  you  can  have  a  fire  in  a  tepee  right 
on  the  floor.  Or  you  can  have  a  stove  in  your  wall 
tent,  but  to  my  mind  a  stove  in  any  tent  except  in 
extreme  cold  weather  ought  to  be  considered  a  capital 
offense.  It  makes  the  tent  still  more  stuffy  and  hot. 
In  the  average  camp  stove  the  fire  goes  out  about  as 
fast  as  you  build  it,  and  it  is  practically  impossible 
to  keep  a  fire  in  one  of  them  over  night.  The  average 
summer  camp  will  not  need  a  camp  stove  unless  it  is 
used  out  in  the  open  clear  away  from  the  tent;  which 
of  itself  is  also  more  or  less  criminal  in  view  of  the 
pleasure  of  cooking  at  the  open  fire.  This,  however, 
must  be  said  with  qualification ;  for  in  some  countries 
you  cannot  get  wood  for  campfire,  and  so  perforce 
17 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

must  have  a  stove,  even  though  you  carry  it  on  your 
own  back. 

So,  always  considering  transportation  and  personnel 
of  your  party  and  the  experience  of  the  weakest  mem- 
ber in  outdoor  life,  you  will  have  to  select  your  tent, 
closed  or  open- face,  in  accordance  with  your  guess  as 
to  what  the  weather  and  mosquitoes  are  going  to  do  to 
you.  The  open-face  tent  is  a  sort  of  fad  and  consid- 
ered the  correct  thing  by  some  men  who  have  not 
thought  much  about  it,  and  by  others  who  have 
thought  a  great  deal  about  it.  A  quarter  of  a  century 
or  more  ago  there  was  an  old  woodsman  by  the  name 
of  Sears  who  wrote  over  the  name  Nessmuk,  an  in- 
genious old,  solitary  woods-rat  who  had  ideas  of  his 
own,  and  who  was  the  founder  and  forerunner  of  the 
modern  school  of  camping  life.  Mr.  Nessmuk  in- 
vented a  hunting-knife,  a  hunting-axe,  a  packsack,  a 
manner  of  building  a  campfire  and  a  manner  of  pitch- 
ing a  tent.  He  made  his  tent  open  in  front  with  sides 
and  roof  converging  to  a  low  wall  at  the  rear.  He 
built  a  little  frame  of  poles,  and  tacked  his  light 
drilling  onto  this,  the  front  opening  being  about  four 
feet  in  height,  the  tent  itself  being  intended  as  a 
sleeping  shelter.  Such  a  tent  is  not  much  good  in  case 
of  rain,  but  the  old  woodsman  managed  to  make  it 
do  by  means  of  shelters  of  boughs  at  the  sides.  It 
took  a  little  while  to  fix  this  tent,  but  the  whole  affair 
IS 


YOUR  VACATION 

could  be  taken  down  and  packed  with  little  trouble. 
Such  a  tent  can  be  made  quite  warm  in  cold  weather 
if  you  know  how  to  build  a  lasting  campfire  in  front 
of  it. 

The  baker  tent,  and  indeed  all  the  open-face  tents, 
are  modified  forms  of  the  old  Nessmuk  bivouac 
shelter.  You  certainly  sleep  well  in  such  a  shelter; 
for  you  are  warm  and  you  breathe  good  air. 

Besides  these  square-front  open-face  models  there 
are  many  sorts  of  single-pole,  conical  or  pyramid  tents 
which  can  be  put  up  quickly.  The  miner's  tent  is  the 
simplest  of  these — a  broad  base  pyramid,  with  a  single 
upright  center  pole  inside.  It  is  very  quickly  pitched, 
and  is  very  compact  when  made  of  the  light  modern 
materials  and  not  in  heavy  duck.  This  is  a  modifica- 
tion of  the  Sibley  tent,  which  was  a  modification  of 
the  tepee.  The  door  is  a  flap  in  the  side,  the  opening 
running  not  quite  to  the  top  of  the  tent.  Such  a  tent 
will  keep  off  rain,  and  it  is  all  right  for  men  who  are 
accustomed  to  living  simply  in  the  open  or  who  are 
traveling  about  from  day  to  day. 

An  Eastern  outfitter  makes  a  round  tent,  with  a 
single  center  pole  and  a  hood  built  around  an  iron 
ring — a  modification  of  the  old  Indian  tepee  idea.  A 
very  decent,  permanent  camp  can  be  built  with  one 
of  these  tents,  but  they  are  hard  to  put  up  and  require 
a  large  number  of  pins  and  ropes. 
19 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

An  ingenious  mind  undertook  to  make  a  tent  which 
would  be  a  cross  between  the  wall  tent,  the  A  tent 
and  the  single-pole,  or  miner's  tent  Moreover,  he 
did  it  too,  and  made  a  very  effective  tent  which  has 
about  as  much  room  in  the  right  place,  weight  for 
weight,  as  any  pattern  yet  cut.  This  tent  has  a  single 
upright  pole  which  is  used  in  the  front  end.  The  roof 
runs  down  to  a  low  wall  at  the  rear.  The  sides  run 
down  from  the  peak  like  those  of  an  A  tent,  merging 
into  the  wall  behind.  The  floor  of  this  tent  is  square, 
the  front  has  two  flaps  which  meet  in  the  middle, 
and  over  it  there  can  be  used  a  triangular  fly,  which 
can  be  shifted  in  front  and  used  as  a  shelter,  or  porch, 
if  required.  Such  a  tent  can  be  easily  made  mosquito- 
proof  as  any.  It  can  be  used  as  an  open-front  camp 
or  as  a  closed  tent.  It  ought  to  be  called  the  three-in- 
one  tent,  for  it  has  some  of  the  advantages  of  each 
of  the  three  types  which  it  embodies.  For  eight  years 
an  old  comrade  and  myself  used  these  tents  in  our 
summer  vacations,  some  weeks  in  extent,  and  we 
found  them  very  practical.  Of  course,  there  is  not 
much  room  in  such  a  tent  for  ladies  who  are  particu- 
lar regarding  their  costumes.  Indeed  nearly  all  tents 
except  the  wall  tent  are  made  for  men  and  not  for 
women. 

You  can  make  a  good  enough  bivouac  tent  out  of 
a  tarpaulin,  or  tent  fly,  stretched  lean-to  fashion, 

20 


YOUR  VACATION 

or  in  the  fashion  of  a  lean-to  with  the  roof  or  porch 
in  front,  all  depending  on  the  frame  you  use  in  stretch- 
ing. Or  you  can  buy  such  a  tent  already  cut,  with 
side  walls  let  onto  it,  if  you  prefer.  And,  of  course, 
if  your  transportation  is  bad,  you  can  use  instead  of 
heavy  canvas  a  sheet  of  the  light  balloon  silk,  or 
Egyptian  cotton,  of  which  more  and  more  tents  are 
made  today. 

The  A  tent  is  very  simple,  indeed,  about  as  practical 
as  anything  for  general  travel  under  a  compromise 
of.  average  wilderness  conditions.  An  A  tent  can  be 
just  as  stuffy  as  a  wall  tent,  although  it  does  not 
weigh  quite  so  much.  Therefore  look  to  the  windows 
and  the  mosquito  defenses,  if  you  are  going  in  fly 
country. 

The  A  tent,  however,  used  to  require  a  ridge  pole 
and  two  end  poles,  and  the  excellence  of  the  pitching 
depended  on  the  fit  of  these  poles.  Of  course,  you 
can't  always  have  tent  poles  along.  Therefore,  the 
A  tent  has  come  largely  to  be  made  with  the  rope 
ridge  pole.  The  rope  ridge  pole  is  not  quite  as  good 
for  shedding  rain,  but  it  is  simple  and  handy.  By 
its  use  you  can  quickly  pitch  the  tent  between  a  couple 
of  trees;  or  you  can  peg  out  the  end  ropes  and  lift 
the  tent  by  using  a  couple  of  poles  as  shears  at  each 
end,  tightening  it  all  you  like — a  simple  and  speedy 
process. 

21 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

But  not  even  a  simple  A  tent  or  wedge  tent  was 
left  unmolested  in  its  model.  Along  came  a  man 
who  shortened  the  ridge  pole  of  the  seven-foot  A 
tent  to  a  couple  of  feet,  sewed  a  short  permanent 
ridge  pole  into  the  top,  cut  the  sides  slopping  every 
way  from  this  short  ridge  pole,  and  hung  the  whole 
thing  up  by  a  rope  from  the  top,  like  a  bird-cage. 
This  also  was  a  simple  canvas  house,  light,  portable, 
and  dispensing  with  considerable  useless  canvas.  Some 
canoeists  took  to  using  this  tent.  I  presume  you  could 
call  it  a  trapeze  tent,  although  I  have  never  known  it 
to  have  that  name. 

Now  your  canoeist,  although  the  most  sybaritic 
creature  on  earth,  likes  to  consider  himself  very  hardy, 
so  he  makes  his  tent  as  sma'll  and  low  and  inconvenient 
as  he  can.  This  trapeze-bar  short  ridge  pole  did  not 
leave  much  room  inside  the  abbreviated  tent,  whose 
door  sometimes  was  so  low  that  a  fellow  had  to  crawl 
in.  So  the  ingenious  outfitters  who  cater  to  the  canoe 
trade  built  a  big  circular  end  in  the  back  of  this  sort 
of  tent.  It  added  immensely  to  the  floor  space  inside. 
Such  a  tent  in  balloon  silk  may  be  seen  in  a  good 
many  canoe  camps.  I  have  never  seen  one  arranged 
with  windows  for  ventilation.  And  once  more  I  speak 
loudly  for  the  window  in  the  tent,  and  plenty  of  it. 

You  will  see  that  the  general  tendency  in  modern 
tents  seems  to  be  toward  light  material  and  toward 
22 


YOUR  VACATION 

the  abolishment  of  poles.  Tent  poles  are  a  nuisance.  I 
knew  a  Chicago  man  not  long  ago  who  had  been  in  the 
Rockies  and  who  wanted  a  tepee  in  the  backyard  for 
his  children.  He  sent  all  the  way  to  Japan  to  get  a 
set  of  bamboo  poles  for  his  tepee,  and  when  they  came 
they  were  broken  all  to  pieces.  Then  he  sent  to  Mon- 
tana and  imported  a  carload  of  tepee  poles  from  an 
Indian  village.  We  all  remember  the  ridge  pole  of  the 
old  wall  tent  which  used  to  stick  out  behind  the  wagon 
when  we  went  away  on  a  family  picnic.  That  left 
the  tail-gate  of  the  wagon  down,  and  everything 
spilled  out.  We  do  things  better  now.  We  shorten 
our  ridge  pole,  lighten  our  tents,  and  run  to  ropes 
rather  than  poles.  And  all  the  time,  although  we  have 
not  yet  learned  the  virtue  of  windows,  we  trend  to- 
ward open- face  tents  with  plenty  of  air.  For  once  the 
fad  or  fashion  is  a  good  one. 

In  dry  country  like  that  of  the  eastern  slope  of  the 
Rockies — the  best  man's  country  and  the  best  out-of- 
door  country  to  be  found  anywhere  on  the  globe — 
outdoor  workers  did  not  use  any  tent  at  all,  but  spread 
down  their  blankets  with  tarpaulin  under  and  over. 
Your  outfitter  will  sell  you  a  tarpaulin  now  arranged 
with  rings  and  snaps,  so  that  you  can  make  a  very 
good  bed  right  on  the  ground.  This  is  hardly  a  good 
suggestion,  however,  for  the  tired  business  man  who 
has  his  whole  family  along. 
23 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

In  general,  on  your  camping  trip,  get  as  far  from 
home  as  your  pocketbook  will  let  you,  and  then 
build  as  good  a  camp  as  you  can  in  as  good  a  place 
as  you  can  find.  Even  if  you  are  going  two  men  in  a 
canoe  you  can  outfit  for  camping  in  absolute  comfort. 
If  you  can  have  a  wagon  to  carry  your  duffie,  you  can 
carry  a  whole  village  of  modern  tents  today.  If  you 
have  a  pack  train,  you  can  take  an  Indian  lodge,  a 
wall  tent,  an  A  tent,  a  baker  tent,  a  miner's  tent,  or 
any  one  of  a  dozen  other  combination  models,  any  one 
of  which  will  probably  do  you  very  well.  Perhaps 
you  will  find  some  old  shack,  or  log  cabin,  which 
you  can  use,  for  bad  weather  at  least.  It  depends 
on  your  transportation.  Two  persons  in  any  tent  make 
enough,  more  than  enough  if  one  of  them  snores.  If 
there  are  several  in  the  party,  two  or  three  tents  are 
far  better  than  one.  Your  vacation  will  do  you  most 
good  if  you  have  a  little  time  and  space  and  solitude 
all  to  yourself. 

Lastly,  if  you  have  not  got  just  the  hints  you  want 
as  to  your  summer  home,  you  can  have  a  great  deal  of 
pleasure  in  designing  a  special  tent  model  all  your  own, 
and  you  certainly  will  find  some  manufacturer  ready 
to  make  it  and  list  it  in  his  catalog.  One  ardent 
canoeist,  for  instance,  devised  him  a  little  conical  tent 
like  a  tepee,  with  a  hole  cut  in  the  side  not  running 
clear  to  the  ground  or  clear  to  the  top.  This  was  a 
24 


YOUR  VACATION 

single  pole  tent.  The  flap  could  be  raised  and  used 
as  a  sort  of  porch.  One  could  make  a  fire  in  front  of 
this  tent  and  get  some  good  of  it,  or  could  easily  de- 
fend it  against  mosquitoes  provided  it  had  a  sewn-in 
floor.  Still  another  man  devised  a  tent  with  steep  roof 
and  sides  to  shed  snow.  He  pitched  it  usually  on  the 
trapeze  or  bird-cage  fashion,  the  ridge  pole  being  short 
and  permanent.  Then  there  are  little  gipsy  tents, 
pitched  over  bows  like  wagon  covers — a  sort  of  thing 
not  seen  in  this  country,  although  sometimes  used  by 
the  nomads  in  Europe.  This  is  something  like  the 
dome-topped  bark  lodge  of  the  Chippewas,  but  much 
smaller.  And  while  speaking  of  the  same  Chippewas, 
did  you  ever  see  a  party  of  them  go  into  camp  on 
the  trail?  They  have  no  skin  covers  for  their  lodge, 
not  even  any  canvas,  let  alone  balloon  silk — nothing 
but  mats  woven  out  of  reeds.  But  in  a  few  minutes 
the  women  will  have  some  springy  poles  cut  and  ends 
in  the  grounds.  Then  they  bend  the  tops  over  to- 
gether and  fasten  them  with  bark,  three  or  four  sets 
of  these  rafters,  connected  by  a  pole  on  top  to  stiffen 
them.  Perhaps  they  lash  a  pole  or  so  alongside.  As 
this  progresses,  another  woman  will  throw  mats  across 
the  top.  In  a  few  moments  they  will  have  up  a  house 
which  looks  as  though  it  had  always  been  there.  There 
is  a  smoke-hole  in  the  roof  at  the  middle.  In  fifteen 
minutes  after  they  have  thrown  down  their  packs  you 
25 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

can  be  sitting  in  a  very  smoky  interior  with  eight 
dirty  children  and  nineteen  dogs  running  over  you, 
and  feel  quite  hardy  and  sporty.  You  can  add  to  the 
excitement  if  you  happen  to  have  a  banana  or  some 
taffy  along. 

There  are  volumes,  and  very  good  ones  too,  inter- 
esting and  useful,  written  in  the  way  of  advice,  hints 
and  suggestions  to  the  outdoor  man  going  into  camp. 
No  doubt  you  will  get  additional  ideas  from  these. 
At  first  you  will  believe  everything  you  read,  but  after 
a  while  you  will  get  over  that.  I  remember  once 
having  heard  a  girl  in  a  musical  comedy  sing  a  little 
song.  She  must  have  been  a  peach,  for  I  remember 
her  yet,  also  the  words  of  her  song,  which  ran  in 
the  chorus. 


I  read  it  in  the  book,  in  my  little  lesson  book — 
I  read  it  in  the  book  and  it  must  be  so. 


You  can  read  a  great  many  things  in  your  lesson 
book  before  you  leave  home  for  your  vacation,  and 
about  the  best  part  of  the  vacation  out  of  doors  is  in 
preparing  for  it.  But  the  great  lesson  book  for  you 
will  be  the  out  of  doors  itself.  You  will  have  your 
best  fun  out  of  meeting  actual  conditions  of  nature 
with  your  own  wits  and  your  own  energy.  The  best 
way  is  not  to  take  any  man's  dictum  as  to  what  you 
want  to  do  or  how  you  want  to  do  it.  Figure  it  out 
26 


YOUR  VACATION 

for  yourself.  I  can  remember  as  some  of  the  keenest 
delights  of  my  life  the  long  list  of  supposed  neces- 
saries which  my  brother  and  I  used  to  figure  out  some 
time  in  January  when  we  were  getting  ready  for  our 
great  adventure  in  July — a  trip  all  of  six  miles  into  the 
wilderness  of  a  farming  country.  It  is  never  too 
early  to  plan  for  vacation. 

The  average  vacationist  may  read  about  camp  life 
and  yet  not  care  to  tackle  it.  A  great  many  do  tackle 
it  and  wish  they  had  not  done  so.  Sometimes,  how- 
ever, even  delicately  reared  city  women  have  learned 
to  like  the  carefree  and  soap  free  life  of  the  camp  in 
the  wilderness.  One  thing  is  sure,  a  vacation  in  camp, 
certainly  at  least  in  a  judiciously  selected  and  well  con- 
structed camp,  will  do  you  a  great  deal  more  physical 
good  than  a  vacation  spent  in  a  summer-resort  hotel, 
no  matter  how  expensive  the  latter  may  be.  The  more 
primitive  your  summer  resort,  the  better  it  is  apt  to  be 
for  you.  What  you  need  is  a  change.  No  man  can 
live  in  the  city,  indeed  no  man  can  undergo  the  high 
pressure  of  modern  business  in  any  community,  and 
not  get  a  case  of  nerves  at  least  once  a  year.  His 
wife  will  get  nervous,  his  children  will  be  nervous, 
the  whole  family  will  grow  more  and  more  nervous 
every  generation  and  every  year  in  each  generation. 
Neurasthenia,  nerve  exhaustion,  mental  collapse,  are 
becoming  more  and  more  common  in  American  busi- 
27 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

ness  and  social  life.  We  work  entirely  too  hard,  speed 
up  entirely  too  much.  No  amount  of  drugs,  no  amount 
of  stimulants  will  ever  cure  that  sort  of  thing.  For 
the  nerve-broken  man  or  woman  the  wise  doctor  would 
prescribe  just  one  treatment — no  drugs,  no  stimulants, 
just  sunshine  and  sleep  and  oxygen  and  good  food, 
and  freedom  from  all  care.  If  some  of  these  gener- 
ally tired  chaps,  some  of  these  generally  harassed 
women  could  get  out  in  camp  in  the  wilderness  some- 
where for  a  few  weeks,  they  would  get  a  better  run 
for  their  money  than  perhaps  they  could  in  any  other 
way.  At  least,  that  is  the  hint  which  of  all  these 
seems  most  worth  while. 


II 

THE  CAMPER'S  OUTFIT 


II 

THE  CAMPER'S  OUTFIT 

THERE  is  no  purchaser  on  earth  whose  needs 
and  notions  are  better  studied  or  better  sup- 
plied than  are  those  of  the  American  sports- 
man. There  are  many  firms  which  annually  put  out 
catalogs  of  two  or  three  hundred  pages  illustrating 
and  describing  hundreds  and  thousands  of  articles  of 
interest  or  use  to  the  sportsman.  These  big  mail- 
order catalogs  are  best  sellers  in  the  best  sense  of  the 
word.  A  man  may  send  back  a  spring  bonnet  or  a 
piano  he  has  bought  by  mail,  but  he  is  pretty  sure 
to  keep  any  article  of  sporting  gear  which  he  has 
purchased  in  the  same  way. 

Some  of  these  myriad  articles  are  useful  and  some 
are  not.  You  cannot  possibly  take  along  with  you 
into  the  country  all  the  things  you  see  advertised, 
but  perhaps  like  others  who  go  vagabonding,  you  are 
fond  of  talking  about  your  outfit.  This  latter  is  a 
most  elastic  term.  A  sportsman's  outfit  is  like  the 
Oxford  dictionary — they  never  get  done  with  the 
compilation. 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

Take,  for  instance,  the  subject  of  packbags.  Even 
if  you  are  not  going  on  a  tramping  trip  you  will  have 
some  kind  of  warbag  or  packsack  to  carry  your  cloth- 
ing and  odds  and  ends.  The  more  experienced  you  are 
the  less  apt  you  are  to  take  along  a  trunk,  or  even  a 
valise,  and  as  the  small  boy  said  in  his  composition, 
"There  are  many  kinds  of  packbags  too  numerous  to 
mention." 

Guides  in  the  Adirondacks  and  Maine  still  use  the 
pack-basket,  which  is  practically  unknown  in  the  West. 
The  professional  woodsman  of  the  Western  pine  coun- 
try uses  a  capacious  bag  nearly  square  in  shape,  with 
a  flap  which  buckles  over.  This  bag  has  shoulder 
straps  and  usually  a  tump  strap  as  well.  A  profes- 
sional cruiser  will  get  eighty  pounds  of  flour,  bacon 
and  odds  and  ends  into  one.  The  sportsman  who 
has  a  larger  number  of  knickknacks  will  find  that  such 
a  bag,  while  holding  them  all,  will  make  a  jumble 
of  them  all,  the  thing  you  want  being  always  at  the 
bottom  of  the  bag.  Moreover,  this  is  a  shapeless, 
disreputable  sort  of  package.  If  you  wish  something 
more  formal,  you  can  buy  a  smaller  and  nattier  pack- 
bag,  better  shaped  to  your  eye  if  not  to  your  back. 
It  will  not  be  any  better  than  the  professional  packbag 
of  the  woodsman.  It  is  a  good  thing  to  watch  the 
professional's  outfit  when  you  make  your  own. 

If  you  travel  much  in  Canada  you  are  apt  to  get 
32 


THE  CAMPER'S  OUTFIT 

the  idea  that  the  tump  line  is  the  only  way  to  pack. 
The  aboriginal  packs  with  a  band  passing  over  his 
forehead,  and  does  not  use  shoulder  straps.  The 
most  awful  loads  in  the  wilderness  are  carried  in  this 
way,  and  this  is  how  the  heavy  portaging  is  done  on 
all  the  long  northern  trails.  The  tump-strap  man  does 
not  use  any  packbag  at  all.  He  spreads  his  square  of 
canvas  on  the  ground,  arranges  his  loose  articles  on 
it,  folds  in  the  ends  and  sides  of  the  package  cover, 
and  either  fastens  his  tump  line  to  the  end  straps  of 
the  package,  or  else  makes  up  his  package  with  the 
tump  line  passing  through  the  middle  of  it.  It  is  more 
trouble  to  make  up  such  a  pack  than  it  is  to  throw 
everything  into  a  packsack.  The  tump-line  man  is 
simply  a  beast  of  burden,  and  as  he  carries  with  his 
neck,  he  cannot  look  up  or  look  around  very  much 
or  pay  any  attention  to  the  use  of  the  rifle  or  camera. 
After  all,  each  country  has  its  own  customs.  The 
tump  line  is  simply  a  means  of  getting  heavy  loads 
across  the  portage.  It  is  useless  in  mountain  country. 
You  will  find  the  hunters  and  prospectors  of  the 
Rockies  making  up  their  packages  in  some  such  fash- 
ion as  above  described,  but  they  carry  their  load  by 
means  of  shoulder  straps,  and  not  tump  lines.  Some- 
times they  have  pads  of  sheepskin,  or  felt,  which  are 
fitted  on  the  shoulder  straps  to  lessen  the  cutting. 
They  carry  heavy  loads  in  the  mountain  country  in 
33 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

that  way,  and  could  not  carry  them  in  any  other  way. 

The  lines  of  the  packbag  go  according  to  the  pur- 
pose and  the  country  you  have  in  mind.  Anything 
will  do  to  carry  flour  and  bacon.  If  you  have  things 
which  you  want  to  keep  separated  you  need  pockets. 
If  you  are  going  on  short  journeys  you  can  carry  a 
large  bag.  If  you  are  doing  mountain  climbing  you 
need  a  small  one  and  one  that  sits  tight.  In  general, 
you  will  bear  in  mind  that  you  should  carry  your 
load  well  up  on  your  shoulders  and  not  on  your  hips — 
any  packer  will  tell  you  that. 

The  European  rucksack  is  a  light  and  handy  bag 
not  yet  in  general  use  in  this  country,  but  worth 
studying.  It  is  broad  at  the  base  and  small  at  the 
top.  Its  mouth  fastens  with  a  puckering  string,  and 
usually  it  has  a  cover  flap.  It  sits  high  and  snug 
on  the  shoulders,  and  allows  perfect  freedom  of  the 
head  and  arms. 

I  presume  that  our  old  friend  Nessmuk,  the  orig- 
inal go-light  artist  in  American  camping  matters, 
never  saw  a  rucksack,  but  he  invented  a  sort  of  pack- 
bag  on  something  the  same  lines.  Sometimes  also  he 
would  just  make  a  "turkey,"  as  the  lumberman  calls 
it — a  grain  sack  with  a  string  tied  from  one  corner 
to  the  top,  and  thrown  over  the  shoulder  as  soldiers 
sometimes  carry  their  blanket  rolls.  You  can  buy  a 
so-called  Nessmuk  bag  today  if  you  like.  Or  you 
34 


THE  CAMPER'S  OUTFIT 

can  make  an  excellent  turkey  of  your  own  by  means 
of  a  grain  sack  and  a  pair  of  overalls.  That  is  the 
use  for  which  overalls  really  were  designed.  Tie  the 
waist  of  the  overalls  to  the  top  of  your  pack,  and  a 
leg  to  each  lower  corner,  and  you  have  as  easily 
carried  a  set  of  pack  straps  as  you  could  ask.  I  have 
often  seen  this  device  used  by  hunters  in  British 
Columbia. 

We  Americans  are  apt  to  think  that  we  can  make 
our  own  sporting  equipment,  and  certainly  we  have 
been  prolific  and  ingenious  enough  in  that  regard. 
Ordinarily  we  sniff  at  European  sporting  gear — I  have 
been  prone  to  do  that  myself.  Not  long  ago,  how- 
ever, I  wanted  a  European  rucksack,  a  light  packbag, 
and  a  Norwegian  friend  sent  me  one.  It  was  a  good 
deal  like  the  duck  that  hatched  out  among  the  chickens. 
I  never  saw  anything  like  it,  and  joined  my  friends 
in  the  general  laughter  which  greeted  its  first  ap- 
pearance. Yet  I  thought  enough  of  this  bag  to  try 
it.  It  made  good,  and  now  I  shall  use  it  whenever  I 
want  a  packbag  in  the  woods.  It  is  worth  a  descrip- 
tion, for  some  thought  has  been  put  into  its  construc- 
tion. It  is,  in  fact,  the  knapsack  of  the  Norwegian 
mountain  soldiers,  who  often  have  to  carry  loads  while 
they  are  traveling  on  ski.  It  would  be  hard  to  devise 
a  better  mountain  packsack  than  this  one. 

In  general  lines  this  is  a  large  rucksack,  broad  at 
35 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

the  base,  narrow  at  the  top,  but  it  is  not  built  limp. 
Running  from  the  bottom  corners  to  the  top  there 
is  a  frame  of  brass  rods  roughly  triangular  in  shape, 
hollow  and  not  very  heavy,  but  rigid.  This  frame 
keeps  the  pack  away  from  the  back,  yet  does  not  touch 
the  back  itself.  The  shoulder  straps  run  from  the 
lower  corners  to  the  upper  corner  of  the  frame,  where 
there  are  short  adjusting  straps.  The  lower  part  of 
the  triangular  frame  is  not  straight,  but  semi-circular, 
to  fit  above  the  hips.  It  does  not,  however,  touch 
the  hips  at  all,  because  a  broad  leather  band  runs 
from  end  to  end  of  it.  The  weight  of  the  pack  is 
distributed  between  this  broad  band  below,  the  crossed 
shoulder  straps  between  the  frame  and  the  body,  and 
the  straps  as  they  pass  over  the  shoulders.  Still  an- 
other strap  runs  from  the  corners  of  the  pack  around 
the  body,  buckling  in  front.  When  you  get  this  pack 
on  you  look  something  like  a  cross  between  a  Jew 
peddler  and  a  Constantinople  hamal.  But  it  is  there 
to  stay.  You  could  roll  over  in  it  if  you  liked.  There 
is  an  air  space  between  the  pack  and  the  back,  and  the 
weight  is  beautifully  distributed.  It  will  pack  from 
twenty-five  to  fifty  pounds,  according  to  the  contents. 
So  little  does  it  distress  the  wearer  that  I  find  I  can 
walk  along  an  hour  or  two  carrying  twenty-five  to 
thirty  pounds,  and  hardly  know  the  bag  is  there. 
The  general  theory  of  this  bag,  however,  is  not 
36 


THE  CAMPER'S  OUTFIT 

its  only  excellence.  It  is  a  perfect  trunk  and  hand- 
bag and  packbag  combined.  Inside  the  body  of  the 
bag  you  can  put  your  soft  stuff  or  your  heavy  stuff. 
Between  this  and  the  back  of  the  bag  there  is  a  deep 
pocket  all  the  way  from  top  to  bottom,  excellent  for 
clean  shirts  or  handkerchiefs,  or  what  you  like.  Then 
you  fasten  the  bag  with  a  drawcord  like  a  rucksack — 
I  run  a  light  chain  through  the  top  of  mine  and  fasten 
it  with  a  padlock,  so  that  I  can  ship  it  as  a  trunk. 
Over  the  open  top  there  is  a  protecting  flap  which 
buckles  down.  The  inside  of  this  flap  has  still  an- 
other pocket  in  it,  excellent  for  toilet  articles,  if  you 
like. 

On  the  front  of  this  omnium  gatherum  there  is  a 
deep  wide  pocket,  about  half  the  entire  length  of  the 
bag.  You  can  put  a  sweater  in  that,  or  other  soft 
stuff.  Nor  is  that  all.  On  each  side  of  the  bag  from 
top  to  bottom  runs  a  narrow  pocket,  also  with  pro- 
tecting flaps  like  all  the  others.  You  can  put  ammu- 
nition or  camera  films  or  the  like  in  these  side  pockets. 
Lastly,  underneath  the  bag  are  rigged  two  little  straps 
to  hold  your  slicker,  or  extra  coat,  or  your  rod  case. 
Instead  of  having  one  big  bag  into  which  to  dump 
everything,  you  have  seven  different  receptacles,  all 
made  out  of  a  light  waterproof  material,  and  all 
hung  to  the  easiest  carrying  device  I  personally  ever 
saw.  With  this  kind  of  rucksack  you  can  find  your 
37 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

camera,  your  fishing  tackle,  your  cleaning  rod,  your 
camp  axe,  your  combs,  brushes,  towels,  handkerchiefs, 
clean  clothes,  old  clothes,  articles  of  food,  etc.  You 
could  dispense  with  a  ditty  bag  if  you  liked,  but  the 
ditty  bag  or  possible  bag — made  of  canvas  or  buckskin 
or  what  you  like,  and  holding  your  needles  and  thread, 
buttons,  fish  hooks,  matches,  whetstone,  medicine  case 
and  all  your  little  odds  and  ends — is  something  with 
which  no  real  woods-goer  would  care  to  dispense.  I 
drop  my  possible  bag  inside  my  rucksack.  This  gives 
me  eight  pockets.  With  this  arrangement  you  can 
keep  house  with  neatness  and  despatch.  My  Norwe- 
gian military  rucksack  lies  before  me  now  all  packed 
for  its  next  journey — which  will  be  this  summer,  to 
the  mouth  of  the  Mackenzie  River  and  over  the  Rat 
Portage  to  the  Yukon.  It  has  in  it  everything  that  I 
am  going  to  take  on  that  trip  outside  my  bedroll  and 
my  mosquito  tent.  It  has  in  it  three  articles  without 
which  I  should  feel  lost  in  the  woods — my  personal 
idea  of  a  good  hand-axe,  a  graniteware  wash-pan — 
which  always  seemed  to  me  cleaner  than  the  canvas 
wash-pan — and  a  certain  quart  cup  made  of  black  tin, 
with  "U.  S."  branded  on  the  handle.  This  tin  cup  is 
blackened  now  with  many  camp  fires.  I  got  it  of  the 
sutler  in  the  Yellowstone  Park  in  1895,  and  it  has  been 
my  mascot  ever  since.  One  winter  ten  years  ago  I 
conceived  it  to  be  an  excellent  thing  to  walk  across 
38 


THE  CAMPER'S  OUTFIT 

New  Brunswick  on  snowshoes  in  the  wintertime.  In 
some  way  my  mascot  got  lost  from  my  pack  in  the 
middle  of  that  forest  country.  I  mourned  it  for 
months,  but  the  next  spring  a  trapper  found  it  by 
sheerest  accident,  and  so  by  devious  processes  it  got 
back  to  me  the  following  summer!  I  began  to  think 
then  that  it  belonged  to  me  and  ought  to  be  a  part  of 
my  outfit,  since  it  came  back  in  this  miraculous  fash- 
ion. Any  woods-goer  will  understand  this  attachment 
to  some  particular  article  of  an  outfit.  The  sportsman 
without  a  whim  is  a  person  not  yet  discovered. 

Some  men  are  neater  by  instinct  than  others — the 
others  call  them  old  maids  in  camp.  I  confess  I  like 
to  know  where  I  can  put  my  hand  on  a  spoon  hook 
without  feeling  loosely  for  the  barbs,  where  I  can 
find  a  fresh  roll  of  film  or  another  box  of  cartridges 
or  the  spare  match-box  or  the  extra  bar  of  soap. 
Moreover,  there  are  little  things  which  you  want  to 
keep  handy  when  you  are  shooting  or  fishing — a  small 
pair  of  scissors,  a  pair  of  cutting  pliers,  not  to  men- 
tion fly  hooks,  leader  box,  reels  and  the  like.  Once 
we  used  to  carry  all  these  things  in  the  pockets  of  our 
coats  when  we  went  angling.  Lately  it  has  become 
rather  the  correct  thing  for  the  angler  or  camper  to 
have  a  little  bag  with  two  pockets  in  the  flap,  either 
waterproof  canvas  or  pigskin,  after  the  English 
fashion.  When  you  begin  to  use  one  of  these  you 
39 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

find  it  very  handy.  In  short,  it  is  the  old  possible 
bag  of  the  early  Kentucky  hunters.  Sometimes  they 
carried  in  it  their  parched  corn  or  extra  gun  flints. 
Sometimes  it  was  of  buckskin,  tucked  under  the  belt 
Indian  fashion.  We  carry  it  with  a  strap  over  the 
shoulder. 

There  are  all  sorts  of  ideas  and  uses  in  bags.  For 
instance,  you  can  carry  food  in  small  round  bags 
which  nest  in  a  larger  bag.  These  are  water-proof, 
and  excellent  for  salt,  sugar,  tea,  coffee,  dried  fruit  or 
the  like.  Such  a  bag  is  better  for  back  or  boat.  The 
chuck  wagon  on  the  range  carried  these  things  in  a 
box. 

One  beauty  of  the  packbag,  or  carryall  bag,  is  its 
freedom  from  injury  in  shipment.  You  can  arrange 
lots  for  any  one  of  many  kinds  of  handy  canvas 
packages,  containing  your  bedroll  or  sleeping-bag, 
your  tent,  your  clothing,  or  your  nested  cooking  outfit, 
and  can  ship  each  by  rail  as  your  personal  baggage. 
Of  late  there  has  come  into  use  the  canvas  cylinder 
like  the  sailor's  bag,  fitted,  as  are  most  rucksacks,  with 
a  row  of  grommets  on  the  top  so  that  the  bag  can  be 
shut  by  means  of  a  gathering  string.  One  of  these 
long,  round  bags  will  hold  a  world  of  stuff.  It  is 
waterproof,  and  if  tied  tightly,  will  even  float  for  a 
while  in  case  of  a  capsize.  It  goes  nicely  into  a  boat 
or  a  canoe,  or  even  into  a  wagon,  and,  if  you  have  in 
40 


THE  CAMPER'S  OUTFIT 

your  outfit  a  pair  of  packstraps,  you  can  put  your 
trunk  on  your  shoulders  at  the  end  of  the  wagon  trail 
and  so  march  off  very  happily. 

If  you  are  camping  light,  two  or  three  of  these 
sailor  bags  will  hold  all  your  outfit.  In  one  you  can 
carry  your  tent  in  a  ground  cloth,  in  another  your 
personal  outfit  and  bed,  in  yet  another  the  cook  outfit 
and  food.  It  is  just  as  well  to  have  a  little  system  in 
your  camp  work.  What  are  you  going  to  need  first 
when  you  pitch  camp?  Hand-axe,  floor  cloth  and 
tent?  Then  put  these  things  in  last  when  you  break 
camp,  so  that  you  can  get  at  them  first  when  you  pitch 
camp.  Meantime  your  chum  is  perhaps  making  the 
fire  while  you  are  laying  out  the  tent.  He  wants, 
first,  his  cook  outfit,  the  frying-pan  and  coffee-pot, 
and  the  little  folding  griddle  with  legs  which  serves 
as  a  stove.  These  should  go  in  his  bag  last  when 
you  break  camp.  Your  bedroll  and  personal  duffle, 
being  needed  later  in  the  game,  can  wait  in  the  other 
bag  until  you  get  ready. 

Continually  you  must  qualify  all  these  matters  by 
the  factor  of  transportation.  In  a  very  long  and 
hard  journey  you  may  not  wish  to  ship  your  personal 
outfit  in  so  perishable  a  case  as  canvas  covering.  I 
have  a  friend  who  swears  by  the  fiber  telescope  cases, 
provided  with  heavy  straps  and  locks.  He  has  sent 
his  sporting  outfit  almost  all  over  the  world  in  these 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

cases,  and  they  have  come  back  practically  as  good  as 
new.  They  are  not  so  heavy  as  trunks,  are  provided 
with  good  metal  corners,  and  will  hold  an  indefinite 
amount  of  stuff.  You  cannot,  however,  use  one  of 
these  as  a  packbag  at  the  end  of  the  wagon  trail.  If 
you  have  wagon  transport  or  even  a  pack  train,  these 
cases  are  good  to  take  rough  use.  You  can  pack  your 
sleeping-bag  or  blankets  in  one  and  the  rest  of  your 
outfit  in  another.  The  two  will  make  a  good  pair  of 
side  packs  on  a  horse,  and  when  you  get  back  to  the 
railroad  you  can  check  them  just  like  trunks. 

A  manly  and  workmanlike  efficiency  ought  to  char- 
acterize any  sportsman's  outfit,  and  for  the  most  part 
he  should  beware  of  fads  and  fashions  which  come 
and  go.  It  is  the  business  of  the  professional  out- 
fitter to  make  you  think  you  want  a  lot  of  things, 
the  most  descriptive  adjective  regarding  which  would 
be  "cute."  You  ought  not,  however,  too  much  to 
despise  the  modern  tendency  toward  lightness  and 
compactness.  The  main  thing  is  to  be  sincere  and 
simple,  and  to  beware  of  affectation,  whether  that 
shall  mean  overmodernity  or  a  blind  clinging  to  the 
past. 

An  old-time  plainsman  would  not  listen  to  any  talk 

about  a  bed  other  than  a  blanket  and  quilt  roll  done 

up  in  a  big  tarpaulin.     He  would  point  out  that  a 

thin   water-proof   drilling   cover   might   get   a   hole 

42 


THE  CAMPER'S  OUTFIT 

punched  in  it.  Yet  it  might  be  pounds  lighter,  and 
hole-proof  enough.  Even  yet  sleeping-bags  are  made 
with  very  heavy  canvas  covers,  and  a  very  practical 
bag  will  run  around  fifteen  pounds.  Some  like  sleep- 
ing-bags ;  I  certainly  do  not.  Yet  they  have  the  virtue 
of  cleanliness  and  compactness.  It  is  hard  to  get  a 
good  camp  bed  down  as  low  as  ten  pounds'  weight. 
One  blanket  is  not  enough  for  a  good  camp  bed.  It 
should  be  remembered  also  that  writers  who  talk  about 
beds  of  pine  boughs  are  describing  only  a  very  limited 
part  of  this  continent,  all  of  which  is  open  to  sport- 
ing travel  today.  I  am  a  great  believer  in  a  good  bed. 
The  nearest  approach  to  it  I  have  made,  taking  in  all 
the  compromises,  is  the  thin  mattress  of  deer  hair, 
with  blankets  above  it,  the  whole  in  a  light  waterproof 
cover  of  canvas  or  balloon  silk.  I  even  indulge  my- 
self in  a  pillow — a  very  small  one — of  "goose  hair." 
It  is  only  large  enough  to  be  of  service  when  used  on 
top  of  a  folded  sweater  or  coat. 

When  you  come  to  the  matter  of  beds  in  your  outfit, 
you  open  up  another  wide  field  of  practice  and  con- 
jecture. If  you  are  in  the  hands  of  a  Mombasa  out- 
fitter, who  will  always  send  out  a  safari  based  on  the 
English  ideas  of  camp  life,  you  will  very  likely  have 
broad  camp  cots,  folding  canvas  chairs,  a  folding 
table,  also  made  of  canvas,  and  a  lot  of  other  things 
which  will  take  an  army  of  darkies  to  carry.  This 
43 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

is  all  right  for  those  who  like  it.  I  certainly  see  no 
use  for  it  at  least  in  this  country.  Yet  I  recall  very 
pleasantly  a  certain  camp  cot,  and  a  folding  canvas 
chair  with  a  high  back,  which  my  father  enjoyed  for 
many  years  when  we  used  to  camp  together.  Maybe 
I  will  enjoy  them  sometime. 

After  your  packbag  and  your  tent  and  your  bed 
comes  your  campfire,  or  your  camp  stove.  Elsewhere 
something  has  been  said  about  the  general  idea  of  a 
camp  stove  inside  of  a  tent.  Don't  use  it  unless  the 
weather  is  very  cold.  In  that  case  someone  will  have 
to  sit  up  to  tend  fire.  Most  of  us,  however,  do  not 
camp  in  extreme  weather  during  our  vacations,  and 
usually  we  cook  over  an  open  fire  out  of  doors.  A 
very  practical  range,  familiar  to  everyone,  is  made 
of  a  pair  of  green  logs,  a  few  inches  in  diameter, 
laid  side  by  side.  It  is  not  always  convenient  to  get 
these  logs,  and  they  have  a  way  of  burning  out  and 
spilling  the  coffee.  If  you  can  get  hold  of  a  couple  of 
steel  bars  to  put  across  your  logs,  they  will  help  a 
great  deal.  Any  of  the  little  griddles  with  folding  legs 
will  make  a  practical  camp  stove.  Better  have  two, 
as  one  is  not  large  enough  to  hold  all  your  cooking 
utensils  at  once. 

One  of  the  best  camp  stoves  I  ever  used  was  made 
of  an  old  gun  barrel,  plugged  and  sharpened  like  a 
spike  so  it  could  be  driven  into  the  ground.  The 
44 


THE  CAMPER'S  OUTFIT 

breech  was  also  plugged,  and  bored  to  admit  the  ends 
of  two  or  three  wire  hooks  which  would  swing  around 
as  though  on  pivots.  These  steel  hooks  were  strong 
enough  not  to  melt  in  the  fire,  and  they  would  hold 
a  frying-pan  very  comfortably.  Another  bent  bit  of 
steel  supported  the  coffee-pot.  We  would  drive  this 
spike  down  into  the  ground  and  build  a  fire  around 
it.  If  a  frying-pan  got  too  hot,  or  if  the  coffee  boiled 
over,  it  was  easy  to  swing  the  vessel  to  one  side  on  its 
hinge.  This  spike,  however,  was  clumsy  to  pack.  The 
device  was  more  interesting  than  practical. 

Elsewhere  mention  has  been  made  of  the  impor- 
tance of  the  camp  stove  in  certain  countries.  Up  in 
Alaska  I  have  seen  prospectors  and  hunters  traveling 
with  packs  on  their  back,  and  they  all  carried  a  sheet 
iron  stove  such  as  is  called  a  Yukon  stove.  In  the 
coast  country  of  the  Alaska  peninsula  the  only  fire- 
wood is  crooked  alder  of  no  great  size.  You  can't  do 
much  with  it  without  a  stove,  and  besides  it  always 
rains  up  there.  The  man  who  hunts  bear  on  Kadiak 
Island,  for  instance,  must  either  have  a  Yukon  stove 
under  a  canvas  shelter  or  else  he  must  live  in  a  native 
barabbara,  where  he  can  cook  down  on  the  ground 
and  let  the  smoke  go  out  the  top,  tepee  fashion.  There 
are  other  kinds  of  stoves  which  you  can  invent  for 
yourself.  I  have  seen  a  very  practical  little  stove  in 
the  tiny  shanty  of  a  fisherman  on  Lake  Erie  who  was 
45 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

fishing  through  the  ice.  It  was  a  baseburner  using 
coal,  and  was  made  out  of  a  powder  can,  not  much 
more  than  a  foot  in  height. 

Camp  clothing  is,  of  course,  something  to  be  se- 
lected in  reference  to  the  place  where  you  intend 
to  use  it.  For  walking  or  mountain-climbing  nothing 
beats  knickerbockers,  but  they  are  no  good  in  mosquito 
country.  The  usual  advice  is  just  to  wear  your  old 
clothes  on  a  camping  trip,  but  this  is  not  always  good 
advice.  When  you  are  in  the  woods  or  the  mountains 
in  cold  weather  you  are  very  likely  wearing  an  inch 
or  two  more  of  shirts  and  underwear  than  you  would 
at  home,  and  very  likely  your  trousers  won't  meet 
comfortably.  I  recall  a  friend  of  mine  who  went  on 
a  winter  camp  in  the  Rockies  once  with  us,  with  the 
pleasant  anticipation  of  wearing  out  an  old  pair  of 
trousers,  nicely  fitted  by  a  good  tailor.  When  it  came 
to  putting  on  his  flannel  shirt,  he  had  to  wear  it  out- 
side of  his  trousers.  It  was  picturesque  in  a  way. 
This  incident  may  be  of  use.  The  best  clothes  really 
are  those  made  for  camp  life.  For  cold  weather  it 
is  hard  to  beat  mackinaw.  Some  of  this  is  loose  and 
shoddy.  Ask  for  the  kind  of  pants  the  iceman  wears 
— a  close-woven  dark  mackinaw,  not  quite  so  soft  and 
spongy  as  the  average  mackinaw  coat.  Get  them  at 
least  two  inches  bigger  in  the  waist  than  your  street 
clothes.  Have  the  legs  long  enough  to  go  comfortably 
46 


THE  CAMPER'S  OUTFIT 

into  your  shoe  tops.  Then  you  can  stoop  down  or 
sit  down  comfortably,  or  step  over  a  log  without  any 
knee  strain. 

In  some  climates  and  countries  you  don't  much  need 
a  coat  if  you  have  a  good  shirt  and  sweater,  but  the 
average  man  will  do  well  to  take  his  coat  along.  It 
is  nearly  always  cool  in  the  evening,  and  sometimes 
if  you  are  riding  you  will  feel  chilled.  Don't  listen 
too  attentively  to  the  man  who  tells  you  that  if  you 
get  cold  either  by  day  or  by  night,  all  you  have  to  do 
is  to  put  on  your  other  suit  of  underwear.  Sometimes 
that  isn't  convenient.  I  prefer  to  put  on  a  coat.  The 
sort  of  coat,  like  the  sort  of  trousers,  depends  on  the 
country  where  you  are  going. 

About  the  only  place  where  you  can  wear  a  buck- 
skin shirt  is  some  place  in  the  heart  of  the  wilderness 
where  you  are  entirely  alone  and  where  it  does  not 
rain.  There  is  nothing  softer,  lighter  or  warmer  for 
its  weight  than  a  good  Indian-made  buckskin  shirt — 
no  one  but  an  Indian  can  make  one  worth  while.  But 
buckskin  has  strictly  gone  out  of  fashion.  It  is  not 
much  good  for  trousers,  and  it  is  hard  to  find  a  place 
where  a  shirt  will  not  attract  attention.  Go  simply. 
Dress  the  way  the  professional  woodsmen  do,  or  the 
outdoor  people  of  the  country  where  you  are  spending 
your  vacation.  I  have  a  perfectly  beautiful  pair  of 
buckskin  riding-breeches,  and  I  long  so  much  to  find 
47 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

a  place  some  time  where  I  can  wear  them.  Perhaps 
it  will  never  be. 

Everything  goes  well  in  camp  and  on  the  trail  so 
long  as  it  does  not  rain — rain  is  far  worse  than  snow. 
What  shall  one  do  if  it  comes  on  to  rain?  Some  say, 
slip  on  the  rubber  poncho  which  goes  under  your  bed 
at  night.  That  is  all  very  well  if  you  have  plenty 
of  transportation.  A  rubber  poncho  is  about  as  heavy 
and  cold  a  thing  as  you  can  get.  The  hole  in  the 
middle  lets  dampness  up  from  the  ground  at  night. 
It  is  just  big  enough  to  get  you  good  and  wet  if  you 
wear  it  as  a  raincoat.  The  man  who  devised  the 
poncho  for  the  use  of  the  cavalryman  must  have  had 
some  grudge  against  the  cavalryman.  If  you  are 
riding  horseback  the  best  raincoat  is  the  cowpuncher's 
common  slicker,  but  it  is  too  bulky  and  heavy  to  con- 
sider for  other  use.  The  best  thing  I  have  ever  found 
is  a  light,  pure  rubber  garment  gathered  in  with  rub- 
ber bands  at  the  neck  and  wrist,  cut  long  and  very  full. 
This  is  perfect  for  use  in  the  automobile  or  wagon, 
in  a  canoe  or  in  a  boat,  or  while  you  are  working 
about  camp.  It  is  very  light  and  portable — also  panc- 
tureable. 

Gloves  are  another  thing  which  make  for  comfort 

in  outdoor  life.     Some  men  like  to  go  bare-handed, 

and  others  always  wear  gloves  even  while  fishing. 

The  best  glove  I  have  found  is  the  officer's  glove  of 

48 


THE  CAMPER'S  OUTFIT 

buckskin  made  for  army  use.  The  regulations  now 
prescribe  that  it  shall  not  have  a  gauntlet — it  is  the 
private  who  wears  gauntlets  on  his  gloves.  Old  kid 
gloves,  if  large  and  loose,  are  nice  to  wear.  You 
can  also  get  sheepskin  gloves  with  deep  cuffs,  with 
the  ends  of  the  fingers  cut  out,  very  nice  for  fishing 
in  mosquito  country.  Up  in  Labrador  you  will  find 
it  necessary  to  have  sleeves  of  drilling  or  the  like 
fastened  to  your  gloves,  like  a  clerk's  office  sleeve, 
fitted  with  a  band  of  rubber  to  hold  them  on  the  arm. 
Nor  should  you  despise  the  havelock,  or  neck  cape, 
which  will  come  in  serviceably  if  the  midges  are  bad. 

Some  like  khaki  for  outdoor  wear.  It  is  useful,  but 
not  so  warm  as  it  might  be.  The  main  trouble  with 
most  trousers  is  that  they  do  not  give  enough  room 
in  the  knee  and  hip.  Really,  a  well  cut  pair  of  Eng- 
lish riding-breeches  ought  to  be  of  general  all-around 
utility  for  riding  or  foot  work.  They  would,  how- 
ever, come  in  for  the  same  restrictions  which  lie 
against  the  use  of  the  buckskin  shirt — one  does  not 
want  to  look  too  "stunty." 

The  subject  of  footwear  in  camp  is  an  old  and  an 
endless  one.  In  general  the  fashion  is  now  against  the 
old  high-top  heavy  hunting-boots.  If  you  are  going 
on  slippery  rocks  you  will  need  nails,  otherwise  you 
will  not  need  them.  You  can  then  get  an  easy  shoe 
pack,  without  any  heel,  and  a  sole  of  what  is  called 

49 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

elk  leather,  soft  and  pliable,  which  will  do  you  very 
well  for  walking  or  boat  work.  It  is  not  really  water- 
proof and  it  is  not  suitable  for  riding,  of  course,  nor 
will  you  find  it  above  reproach  in  mountain-climbing. 
Cut  the  tops  down  so  that  your  trousers  will  just 
go  into  the  tops  of  the  shoe.  It  is  the  high-top  boot 
which  causes  the  agony  of  the  chafed  Achilles  tendon 
at  the  heel.  If  you  are  troubled  with  that,  take  your 
tall  boots  off,  take  out  your  trusty  hunting-knife,  cut 
them  down  to  street-shoe  height,  and  go  on  your  way 
happy. 

In  the  far  North  moccasins  are  worn  as  regular  foot 
wear  by  red  men,  breeds  and  white  men,  but  for  the 
average  American  sportsman  they  are  an  affectation 
except  when  used  around  camp,  when  they  are  most 
comfortable.  You  can't  get  real  moose  moccasins 
without  trouble  anywhere  excepting  in  northwest 
Canada,  in  the  fur  country.  When  you  get  them  you 
can't  walk  in  them  with  much  comfort,  if  there  is 
any  gravel  or  other  hard  going.  I  have  a  pair  to 
which  I  have  sewed  soles  of  soft  "elk  leather."  They 
go  very  nicely  but  are,  of  course,  rather  slippery  on 
wet  rocks.  In  certain  kinds  of  straightaway  walking 
where  the  going  is  good  the  moccasin  is  comfortable 
footwear  for  a  white  man,  but  it  takes  an  education 
for  most  to  enjoy  them,  although  nothing  is  better 
to  have  in  your  packbag  when  you  come  in  tired  at 
50 


THE  CAMPER'S  OUTFIT 

night.  They  are  good  in  cold,  dry  snow,  and  horribly 
worthless  in  wet  weather. 

Good  socks  are  hard  to  get  in  this  country.  They 
should  be  thick  but  soft  and  of  good  wool,  not  full  of 
knobs  and  gobs.  Ah,  what  a  comfort  there  is  in  a  pair 
of  moccasins  and  a  soft,  dry  pair  of  socks  at  night! 
Have  your  boots  big  enough  for  two  pairs  of  socks, 
one  of  light,  soft  wool  and  one  of  heavy,  soft  wool. 
Your  feet  will  look  large,  but  they  will  feel  good. 

Always  wear  a  waistcoat  whether  you  keep  it  but- 
toned or  not.  It  is  full  of  pockets  for  matches,  your 
compass — or  your  two  compasses — your  eyeglasses 
and  such  odds  and  ends.  Some  men  wear  a  wrist- 
watch — English  very  generally  in  many  parts  of  the 
world.  Do  so  if  you  feel  that  you  are  obliged  to, 
but  please  do  not  come  around  to  my  camp,  especially 
if  you  have  a  handkerchief  tucked  up  your  sleeve  at 
the  same  time.  I  see  no  reason  why  you  should  not 
wear  your  watch  in  camp  as  you  do  at  home.  If  you 
are  afraid  of  using  it  get  a  cheap  one  in  a  gunmetal 
case.  Tie  your  watch  to  your  person  with  a  thong 
as  you  do  your  compass,  your  dog  whistle,  or  perhaps 
your  hunting-knife. 

Don't  forget  a  good,  big,  soft  silk  handkerchief.  It 
is  good  to  keep  off  the  sun  or  the  cold  or  the  mosqui- 
toes. Wear  it  sensibly,  and  don't  tie  it  as  though  you 
were  posing  for  a  picture.  It  was  made  for  use,  not 
51 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

for  show.  In  fact,  that  is  a  very  good  test  to  apply 
to  yourself  as  you  turn  out  in  your  camp  outfit — let 
all  be  for  use  and  not  for  show. 

In  one  pocket  of  your  waistcoat  you  will  have  your 
match-box,  water-proof,  of  course,  and  in  your  pos- 
sible bag,  which  goes  inside  of  your  main  warbag, 
you  will  have  your  extra  box  or  bottle  of  matches. 
You  can  make  a  fairly  good  small  match-box  out  of 
two  brass  shotgun  shells,  ten  and  twelve  gauge,  tele- 
scoping. I  traded  one  such  for  another  similar  with  a 
forest  ranger  up  on  the  Peace  River  one  time.  The 
primers  had  started  on  his  match-safe  and  let  in  the 
water.  As  mine  was  still  water-proof  I  gave  it  to 
him,  and  have  his  today.  Also  I  have  a  large-mouthed 
bottle  of  matches  which  has  been  in  my  camp  outfit, 
unopened,  for  some  twenty  years,  in  many  parts  of  the 
country  and  under  many  conditions  of  transportation. 
You  can  break  a  glass  bottle,  of  course,  but  until 
you  do,  it  makes  a  very  practical  match-safe. 

Your  hunting-knife — or  perhaps  you  should  rather 
call  it  your  camp  knife — is  something  by  which  you 
may  be  judged  among  professionals.  The  fashion  in 
knife  blades,  as  in  boot  tops,  is  for  smaller  longitu- 
dinal dimensions.  A  four-inch  blade  is  long  enough 
to  cut  up  anything.  Such  a  knife  with  almost  any  kind 
of  handle  that  has  no  guard  will  fit  tight  in  a  sheath. 
You  can  bore  the  handle,  if  you  like,  and  fasten  the 
52 


THE  CAMPER'S  OUTFIT 

knife  to  your  belt  with  a  thong,  so  that  it  will  not  be 
lost  should  it  slip  out  of  its  scabbard.  Some  like  a 
hunting-knife  with  a  guard — Colonel  Bowie  did,  and 
Davy  Crockett,  when  they  were  carving  Greasers  and 
others  of  their  friends.  The  argument  for  the  guard 
is  that  it  keeps  your  hand  from  slipping  and  getting 
cut  while  you  are  dressing  game.  It  is  all  a  matter 
of  personal  choice.  I  have  cut  up  quite  a  few  deer, 
bear,  sheep,  elk  and  other  critters  with  a  guardless 
knife,  and  never  cut  my  own  hand  yet.  Still  it  might 
happen  any  time.  What  usually  happens,  however,  is 
that  we  don't  get  any  deer  to  cut  up  or  any  merciless 
Indian  savages  to  slay  with  our  trusty  blades.  For 
that  matter,  however,  although  my  hand  may  have  lost 
its  cunning,  I  am  disposed  to  think  I  could  take  the 
hair  of  the  hated  redskin  as  well  with  a  four-inch 
knife  that  had  no  guard  on  it  as  with  an  eight-inch 
spear-point  with  a  guard  three  inches  across.  Every- 
one to  his  own  taste  in  these  matters. 

Another  item  of  personal  equipment  is  the  camp 
axe.  Personal  habit  comes  into  play  here  also.  When 
hunting  alone  in  strange  country  I  always  like  to 
have  a  light  axe  at  my  belt,  as  well  as  a  knife  and 
some  matches.  The  best  handle  is  not  straight,  but 
has  a  knob  on  the  end  so  that  it  will  not  slip.  About 
a  pound  weight  for  the  head  is  effective.  The  steel 
cannot  be  too  good,  and  it  should  be  kept  sharp.  Such 
53 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

a  tool  will  do  for  camp  work,  but  is  not  heavy  enough 
for  a  trapper  or  a  regular  woodsman,  of  course.  The 
half-axe  used  by  the  New  Brunswick  trappers  is  a 
mighty  efficient  tool.  If  you  are  going  on  a  long  trip 
with  a  wagon  or  a  pack  train  it  is  best  to  have  one 
man-size  axe  along.  You  can't  do  much  in  getting 
fuel  for  the  whole  night  with  one  of  the  little  axes,  al- 
though it  is  very  handy  in  camp  or  bivouac  work  or 
general  tinkering.  Perhaps  it  is  partly  a  habit  which 
makes  a  man  feel  so  uncomfortable  unless  he  has 
some  such  little  friend  along  with  him.  Let  the  weight 
of  your  camp  axe  go  into  the  head  and  not  the  handle. 
The  camp  axe  ought  not  to  be  a  toy  but  a  tool.  Some- 
where in  your  outfit  there  should  be  a  file  and  a  whet- 
stone— carborundum  is  good,  and  keen  cutting.  The 
steel  in  your  axe  and  your  hunting-knife  ought  not 
to  be  too  brittle  and  not  too  soft.  When  you  get  hold 
of  a  really  good  piece  of  steel  it  is  apt  to  be  by  acci- 
dent. Cherish  it,  then. 

Your  camp  light  is  something  of  a  problem.  Usu- 
ally it  will  be  your  campfire.  The  little  electric  lights 
which  work  with  a  push  button  are  convenient,  but 
are  apt  to  wear  out  on  a  long  trip  where  you  cannot 
renew  the  batteries.  Candles  get  crushed,  and  kero- 
sene lanterns  frequently  are  impossible.  Perhaps  you 
will  have  to  do  your  best  with  the  campfire.  If  you 
want  to  sit  up  all  night  you  can  build  a  fire,  and  if 
54 


THE  CAMPER'S  OUTFIT 

you  want  to  go  to  sleep  you  don't  need  much  light 
to  do  that. 

For  kindling  wood,  you  will  not  have  to  go  far 
if  you  are  in  birchbark  country.  If  you  are  in  a 
cotton  wood  country  you  can  get  along  even  if  it  rains 
— the  inner  bark  of  the  cottonwood  will  be  dry.  Or 
you  can  get  a  dry  branch  somewhere  and  whittle  up  a 
ridge  of  shavings  on  the  side  without  detaching  them 
at  the  butt.  Stand  this  up  on  end  against  your  side 
log,  cover  it  with  a  piece  of  bark  or  your  hat,  and 
touch  her  off  with  your  match.  It  usually  will  go. 

Keep  your  fishing  rods  and  your  guns  dry  at  night 
by  putting  them  under  the  edge  of  your  blankets.  If 
you  have  a  small-bore,  high-power  rifle,  you  cannot 
keep  it  clean  with  water  and  vaseline.  You  should 
have  along  a  bottle  or  a  screw-top  tin  of  one  of  the 
thin  modern  cutting  oils.  Not  even  this  will  really 
clean  the  grooves  of  a  high-power  rifle.  When  you 
get  home  take  some  high-power  ammonia  and  moisten 
your  cleaning  rags.  They  will  come  through  dirty  a 
much  longer  time  than  you  would  have  thought.  Am- 
monia is  hard  to  take  into  camp,  although  it  is  very 
useful  to  soothe  mosquito  bites.  Salt  and  water  will 
help  the  pain  of  mosquito  bites  also.  Castor  oil  is 
something  disliked  by  mosquitoes  very  much.  Castor 
oil  and  oil  of  lavender  combined  make  a  very  good 
mosquito  dope. 

55 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

Your  medicine  kit  is  something  which  should  be 
considered  if  you  are  really  going  into  the  wilderness 
for  any  sort  of  stay.  Your  outfitter  will  have  ready 
for  you  a  leather  or  tin  case  of  tabloid  remedies,  large 
or  small,  and  with  full  printed  directions  for  use.  Or- 
dinary camp  diseases  are  only  two  or  three  in  number. 
If  you  are  in  a  foreign  country  such  as  Africa,  for 
instance,  you  should  be  more  careful  with  your  medi- 
cine kit  and  more  expert  in  its  use.  Some  men  take 
along  a  surgical  needle  or  so  and  a  pair  of  hemostatic 
forceps.  In  a  severe  cut,  for  instance  with  an  axe,  you 
can  pinch  up  an  artery  which  otherwise  would  be  hard 
to  stop.  A  little  gauze  and  some  clean  bandages  may 
be  useful,  but  possibly  not.  It  is  the  rarest  thing  in 
the  world  that  anything  goes  wrong  in  camp.  Usually 
it  is  time  to  worry  about  it  when  it  happens.  Men  have 
cut  off  their  own  legs  and  got  away  with  it,  although 
that  can  hardly  be  described  as  a  pleasant  pastime. 
The  medicine  kit  and  the  surgical  appliances,  however, 
ought  to  be  considered  if  one  is  going  very  far  from 
home  in  a  country  where  there  is  lack  of  woman's 
nursing  and  a  dearth  of  doctors'  bills. 

Many  other  items  will  occur  to  other  men  as  useful 
or  even  indispensable,  and  some  readers  will  perhaps 
mark  off  the  list  some  of  the  suggestions  above  noted. 
The  beauty  of  the  sportsman's  catalog  is  that  it  pro- 
vokes discussion.  There  is  no  better  reading  than  can 
56 


THE  CAMPER'S  OUTFIT 

be  found  in  its  handsomely  illustrated  pages.  Follow- 
ing even  in  most  rudimentary  fashion  its  wide  sug- 
gestions, you  may  thus  transport  your  outfit  by  train, 
by  wagon,  by  horse  or  by  your  own  back  to  your 
chosen  spot,  may  unpack  it  there  from  tent  to  bed  and 
campfire  equipment.  You  may  walk  all  day  with 
comfort  or  fish  all  day  with  delight.  You  may  come 
into  camp  wet  and  tired  and  soon  be  dry  and  com- 
fortable— and  so,  as  good  Mr.  Pepys  would  say,  to 
bed. 


Ill 

VACATION  NUISANCES:    HOW  TO  PREVENT 
THEM 


Ill 


VACATION  NUISANCES:    HOW  TO  PREVENT 
THEM 

IF  there  is  any  one  cause  more  than  another  of 
disillusionment  regarding  camp  life,  it  is  the 
petty  inconvenience  inflicted  by  insect  pests.  The 
large  discomforts  we  can  endure,  but  it  is  the  little 
ones  which,  as  it  were  and  in  the  vernacular,  get  our 
goat  or  goats.  In  the  wilderness  as  in  the  city  it  is 
worry  and  not  disaster  that  bulks  most  ominously. 
Nor  does  this  annoyance  always  stop  at  discomfort. 
Disease  follows  the  bites  of  some  insects.  Moreover, 
there  are  others  which  are  distinctly  poisonous  of 
themselves. 

Once,  after  a  bass-fishing  trip  in  Indiana,  where 
we  hunted  bait  frogs  around  the  marshes  at  midnight, 
our  whole  party  began  to  feel  badly  soon  after  they 
returned  to  the  city. 

"Malaria!"  said  the  doctor. 

"Frogs!"  said  we  with  sudden  recollection. 

"No,"  said  he,  "it  was  anopheles." 

Now  anopheles  is  the  name  of  a  special  brand  of 
61 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

mosquito  which  bites  you  and  gives  you  malaria — 
it  is  not  the  mists  of  the  marsh,  but  the  mosquitoes, 
which  carry  malaria. 

All  over  the  world  there  are  dangerous  mosquitoes. 
We  have  learned  the  habits  and  attributes  of  the  yel- 
low-fever mosquito.  Everybody  knows  that  the  first 
thing  to  do,  in  building  the  Panama  Canal,  was  to 
kill  the  mosquitoes.  Travelers  in  the  tropics  know 
the  value  of  protection  against  these  pests.  For  in- 
stance, there  is  in  Ceylon  a  certain  small  mosquito, 
which  flies  only  at  night  and  perhaps  is  not  suspected 
at  all  by  the  traveler,  for  that  reason.  The  bite  is 
certain  to  produce  a  bad  fever.  The  same  is  true  of 
other  species  in  different  countries. 

Under  the  microscope  the  mosquito  is  a  monstrous 
and  formidable  thing.  It  is  only  under  the  microscope 
that  one  learns  the  many  differences  in  mosquitoes, 
all  of  which  look  or  sound  alike  to  the  naked  eye  or 
ear.  You  will  easily  learn  to  tell  the  difference  be- 
tween anopheles  and  stegomyia.  One  species  will  have 
a  harp  on  his  back,  another  will  have  white-banded 
legs,  another  white  feet,  and  so  on.  There  is  none 
of  them,  however,  which  is  altogether  lovable,  and, 
poisonous  or  merely  inconvenient,  they  make  more 
combined  danger  and  discomfort  in  camp  than  all  the 
wild  beasts  of  the  wilderness. 

Nature  has  some  kindness  in  her  makeup,  although 
62 


VACATION  NUISANCES 

for  the  most  part  she  is  merciless.  She  paints  some 
poisonous  plants  and  poisonous  fishes  bright  scarlet, 
so  that  we  may  be  warned  against  them.  She  gives 
the  rattlesnake  his  warning  rattle,  teaches  us  to  de- 
test the  mosquito's  whining  note  of  warning.  But 
there  are  many  minor  pests  in  the  woods  against  which 
she  has  no  warning  at  all — gnats,  chigres,  flies,  tar- 
antulas, centipedes,  many  bugs  or  buglets  which  we 
realize  after  taking  and  not  before.  Mankind  is  just 
beginning  to  wage  intelligent  warfare  on  many  of 
these.  The  campaign  against  the  house-fly  is  now 
world-wide.  We  know  now  that  it  was  the  Texas 
tick  which  caused  Texas  fever  in  range  cattle  in  the 
old  days— just  as  we  know  that  it  is  a  tick,  living  on 
ground  squirrels,  which  causes  the  deadly  spotted 
fever  in  human  beings.  It  is  well  known  that  the 
flea  is  the  immediate  cause  of  the  deadly  Asiatic 
plague. 

Perhaps  the  aversion  of  some  folk  to  camp  life 
is  a  sort  of  hereditary  fear  of  these  pests  and  dangers 
of  the  wilderness,  slight  as  they  actually  are  when 
proper  measures  are  taken  against  them.  It  is  just  as 
well  to  keep  in  mind  a  few  things  in  the  way  of  cure 
or  prevention.  Of  course,  absolute  protection  only 
can  be  obtained  by  complete  destruction  of  the  entire 
insect  species.  It  is  a  part  of  the  landscape  gardener's 
duties  today  to  wipe  out  all  mosquitoes  from  low  and 
63 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

wet  places  around  a  country  residence.  Malaria  dis- 
appears as  countries  become  settled,  because  the  wet 
ground  disappears,  and  hence,  the  mosquitoes  disap- 
pear. Be  clean — that  is  the  remedy  of  nature.  When 
the  West  was  young,  surgery  could  be  performed 
there  which  is  impossible  there  today.  Germs  come  in 
with  human  occupation.  Be  clean  and  you  will  be  well, 
at  home  or  in  the  wilderness.  When  we  shall  have 
become  able  to  cope  with  the  pests  of  the  wilderness 
we  shall  acquire  merit  in  the  eye  of  Nature,  in  whose 
court  only  survival  wins  a  smile,  and  failure  elicits 
not  a  tear. 

From  time  to  time  mention  has  been  made  of  insect- 
proof  tents  that  are  used  in  camp.  In  general  it  may 
be  said  once  more  that  tents  will  be  better  when  made 
with  more  windows.  Especially  is  this  true  of  the 
water-proof  tents,  known  as  silk  or  silkaline.  Shut 
yourself  up  in  one  of  these  tents  to  keep  out  the 
mosquitoes  and  you  will  nearly  freeze,  even  on  a 
summer  night,  because  of  the  condensation  of  mois- 
ture within  it.  A  screened  window,  with  a  current 
of  air  blowing  through  it  will  really  make  the  tent 
warmer,  as  well  as  safer  against  insects.  Your  tent 
should  be  fly-proof  but  not  air-proof. 

A  good  head  net  is  sometimes  essential  either  by 
day  or  by  night  in  bad  fly  country.  When  you  wear  it 
you  may  feel  like  a  dog  with  a  muzzle,  but  you  will 
64 


VACATION  NUISANCES 

soon  get  used  to  it,  although  you  cannot  well  wear  it 
on  the  trail  in  the  woods. 

Have  your  head  net  of  black,  never  of  white  or 
green — you  cannot  see  through  anything  but  black. 
Perhaps  the  best  net  is  one  which  is  drawn  in  over 
the  top  of  your  broad-brimmed  hat,  and  comes  down 
free  of  your  face,  and  is  tied  under  your  arms.  You 
can  even  get  a  head  net  today  with  a  hole  in  it  for 
your  pipe  stem,  if  you  like. 

Too  high  value  cannot  be  placed  on  the  long  mos- 
quito gloves,  arranged  with  sleeves  and  elastic,  which 
are  essential  in  some  bad  fly  countries,  such  as  Labra- 
dor, or  the  far  North.  These  usually  are  made  with 
the  tips  of  the  fingers  cut  out  so  that  you  can  work. 
By  keeping  the  ends  of  your  fingers  well  coated  with 
dope,  your  wrists  and  hands  can  thus  be  rendered 
immune  against  all  manner  of  biting  insects. 

Sometimes  on  the  salmon  waters  of  Quebec  the  lit- 
tle gnats  or  no-see-ums  are  so  bad  that  the  angler 
wears  a  havelock,  or  light  linen  neck  cape,  which  is 
tucked  down  under  his  collar.  If  one  smokes  a  pipe 
all  the  time,  this  will  usually  be  sufficient  protection. 

Much  of  your  comfort,  as  regards  insects,  will  de- 
pend upon  your  clothing.  You  can  get  a  beautiful 
suit  of  olive-green  khaki,  or  some  of  the  light  sport- 
ing cloths,  but  let  it  not  be  too  thin — in  bad  fly  country 
the  mosquitoes  will  go  through  it  easily.  A  looser 
65 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

garment  of  wool,  with  thick  underwear,  will  prove 
much  better  protection,  and  in  general  it  is  better  to 
have  on  too  much  wool  than  too  little.  Light  cotton 
underwear  with  thin  stockings  has  ruined  many  a  va- 
cation trip.  Women  especially  dislike  the  clumsy 
look  and  feel  of  good  sporting  wear,  and  they  are  the 
ones  that  suffer  most  about  camp — they  simply  will 
not  wear  heavy  enough  stockings. 

Of  course,  you  can  save  yourself  much  discomfort 
by  pitching  your  camp  with  judgment.  In  fly  coun- 
tries camp  in  the  open  and  camp  in  the  wind — a 
mosquito  cannot  make  any  headway  against  the  wind, 
because  it  turns  his  wings  up  sidewise,  and  then  he 
is  gone. 

If  you  have  no  other  protection,  try  a  smudge  in 
camp,  if  the  mosquitoes  are  bad.  Perhaps  the  best 
one  is  made  of  cedar  bark,  although  it  is  very  hard 
on  the  eyes.  You  can  get  on  with  grass  or  leaves,  if 
you  can  do  no  better.  In  the  pine  woods  you  may 
have  seen  the  homesteaders'  smudges — built  in  an 
iron  pot  in  front  of  the  door,  mostly  with  bark.  In 
many  parts  of  Canada  you  may  see  a  smoldering  fire 
with  a  rail  fence  around  it.  The  fence  is  to  keep  the 
horses  and  cattle  from  crowding  into  the  fire,  driven 
well-nigh  mad,  as  they  sometimes  are,  by  the  swarms 
of  mosquitoes  or  flies. 

Next  to  these  physical  protections  or  preventions 
66 


VACATION  NUISANCES 

little  remains  except  dope.  In  some  countries  dope 
is  not  any  protection  at  all,  so  numerous  and  blood- 
thirsty are  the  mosquitoes.  In  the  ordinary  sporting 
country  of  the  temperate  zones,  however,  a  good  dope 
will  do  the  trick.  No  one  can  tell  you  what  is  the 
best  dope,  for  every  sportsman  has  his  own  formula, 
but  dope  of  some  kind,  in  a  box  or  a  bottle,  you  ought 
to  have  with  you,  as  paste  or  liquid,  if  you  are  going 
into  camp  in  the  mosquito  season  in  the  mosquito 
country. 

The  standby  of  the  woods  is  tar  and  oil.  Some 
use  sweet  oil,  but  castor  oil  is  more  distasteful  to 
insects — nobody  and  nothing  likes  castor  oil,  not  even 
a  hungry  mosquito.  The  usual  formula  is  oil  of  pine 
tar,  three  parts,  castor  oil,  two  parts,  and  oil  of  penny- 
royal, one  part.  Sometimes  I  add  to  the  above  a 
bit  of  oil  of  citronella,  which  also  is  very  distasteful 
to  mosquitoes  and  many  other  insects.  This  dope  is 
liquid.  The  smell  is  not  unpleasant,  but  the  prescrip- 
tion requires  that  you  put  it  on  and  do  not  wash  it 
off,  which  to  some  persons,  especially  fastidious  ladies, 
is  something  of  a  hardship.  Don't  be  afraid  to  use  it, 
and  don't  get  the  idea  that  a  little  dab  on  your  nose 
or  ear  is  going  to  keep  the  mosquitoes  away  from 
you — use  plenty.  If  you  perspire  this  dope  will  run. 
Usually  you  do  perspire. 

All  the  resources  of  applied  chemistry  have  been 
67 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

called  on  in  the  manufacture  of  fly  dope.  Some  are 
cleaner  than  others  and  are  efficient  as  well.  You 
can,  for  instance,  take  castor  oil  and  citronella,  or 
castor  oil  and  oil  of  lavender,  and  look  a  trifle  more 
ladylike  than  if  you  use  the  tar  compounds.  Most 
sportsmen  agree  that  citronella  is  a  good  repellent. 

There  is  nothing  so  good  as  quinin  to  cure  malaria 
which  comes  from  mosquito  bite.  From  this  one 
ingenious  sportsman  reasoned  that  mosquitoes  do  not 
like  bitter  things,  and  he  concluded  to  put  something 
bitter,  like  quassia,  in  a  fly  dope  of  his  own.  He  used 
this  dope  successfully  in  all  parts  of  the  United  States 
and  in  Central  America,  and  claimed  that  it  made  a 
good  protection  even  against  chigres.  This  inventor 
was  Colonel  Crofton  Fox,  now  deceased,  but  once  a 
well  known  Michigan  sportsman.  His  recipe,  which 
has  been  printed  from  time  to  time,  was  as  follows: 

Fox's  Fly  Dope 
Oil  pennyroyal 
Oil  peppermint 
Oil  bergamot 
Oil  cedar,  F.E. 
Quassia,  aa  31 
Gum  camphor,  siv 
Vaseline,  yellow,  3ii  M.S. 

Dissolve  camphor  in  vaseline  by  heat;  when  cold, add  re- 
mainder. 

68 


VACATION  NUISANCES 

A  Western  firm  makes  a  dope  something  like  the 
foregoing,  with  the  addition  of  oil  of  cloves  and  cit- 
ronella.  This  is  put  up  in  collapsible  tubes  convenient 
for  use.  Vaseline  or  suet  is  used  as  a  body  in  several 
of  the  pastes,  some  of  which  are  very  efficient,  and 
all  of  which  are  cleanly  and  convenient  to  use.  Most 
of  these  pastes  have  pennyroyal  as  the  main  repellent. 

There  is  a  fly  dope  that  has  been  on  the  market 
thirty  years,  which  has  quite  a  vogue  in  black-fly 
country.  I  do  not  know  the  ingredients  except  that 
oil  of  tar  is  one  of  them,  and  very  likely  another  is 
pennyroyal.  The  mixing  oil  is  of  less  importance, 
and  we  may  classify  this  simply  as  one  of  the  tar 
dopes.  It  is  good  against  no-see-ums  and  black  fly — - 
these  little  nuisances  which  bite  you  along  your  hat 
band,  or  back  of  the  ears. 

If  you  are  going  on  a  long  and  hard  journey,  the 
paste  dope  which  you  can  carry  in  a  box  has  some 
advantage  over  a  liquid  dope,  if  you  carry  the  latter 
in  glass.  It  is  better  to  carry  a  liquid  dope  in  a  little 
screw-top  tin,  holding  a  couple  of  ounces  or  so. 

A  gentleman  in  Kentucky  some  years  ago  sent  me 
the  recipe  which  he  found  very  efficient  in  the  North- 
ern woods — merely  a  variant  of  the  old  staples.  It 
calls  for  pure  pine  tar,  one  ounce;  pennyroyal,  one 
ounce;  vaseline,  three  ounces.  The  same  gentleman 
sometimes  used  another  formula :  tar,  two  ounces ; 
69 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

castor  oil,  three  ounces;  pennyroyal,  one  ounce.  He 
always  said  that  most  of  the  volatile  aromatic  oils, 
or  even  camphor,  lose  efficiency  through  evaporation 
very  quickly.  But  from  his  hints  and  foregoing  ones 
any  woods-goer  can  evolve  a  dope  which  will  do  the 
work  as  well  as  any  dope  can  be  expected  to  do. 

Deer  flies,  the  big  green  chaps,  are  keen  cutters. 
Perhaps  dope  keeps  them  away.  Try  it  at  least  on  the 
necks  and  flanks  of  your  horses,  for  you  may  save 
them  much  misery.  Their  bite  is  very  painful  to  a 
horse,  or  to  a  man.  The  bulldog  flies  of  the  Rockies 
are  well  known  nuisances.  Sometimes  the  high, 
grassy  meadows  in  the  mountains,  which  look  like 
fine  camping  grounds,  are  almost  untenable  by  reason 
of  these  greenhead  flies. 

Sometimes  on  the  prairies  or  near  the  mountains 
of  the  West  you  may  have  been  tormented  by  swarms 
of  flying  ants,  which  hang  around  back  of  your  head 
as  you  ride  horseback  or  in  a  wagon.  They  bite  rather 
keenly,  and  sometimes  get  in  your  hair.  A  head  net 
is  best  for  them,  or  a  silk  handkerchief  if  you  have 
no  head  net. 

We  have  with  us  tonight  also  the  tick  and  chigre, 
neither,  happily,  of  general  distribution,  although 
sufficiently  abundant.  Ticks  are  bad  things,  especially 
in  tropical  countries.  They  make  one  of  the  menaces 
of  hunting  in  Africa.  Carefully  fitted  clothing  and 
70 


VACATION  NUISANCES 

leggings  and  footwear  make  the  best  protection 
against  ticks.  The  African  hunter  at  night  always 
wears  mosquito  boots,  a  soft,  light  footwear  which 
will  turn  ticks  as  well  as  mosquitoes  around  camp. 

The  worst  tick  country  of  the  United  States  is  in 
the  South;  still  farther  to  the  southward,  in  Mexico 
and  Central  America,  the  tick  nuisance  is  yet  worse. 
There  you  may  find  the  pinolillos,  or  the  garapatos. 
When  you  come  into  camp  covered  by  the  latter, 
each  with  his  head  buried  in  your  system,  and  each 
very  much  absorbed  in  the  work  he  has  found  to  do, 
the  best  thing  is  to  get  someone  to  touch  the  lighted 
end  of  a  cigarette  to  each  of  the  nuisances.  He  will 
then  blow  up,  and  cease  to  trouble. 

Eternal  vigilance  is  the  only  price  of  safety  in  tick 
country.  Dope  is  not  much  good.  Perhaps  if  one 
were  liberally  anointed  with  kerosene  it  might  keep 
them  off  in  good  measure.  If  you  get  a  bug  in  your 
ear — pour  in  kerosene,  it  will  make  him  back  out. 
Sometimes  it  will  have  the  same  effect  on  a  tick. 
Sometimes  camphor  has  something  of  the  same  effect, 
or  chloroform,  or  ammonia.  I  am  strong  for  a  bottle 
or  can  of  ammonia  in  camp.  It  is  sovereign  for  the 
alleviation  of  insect  bites.  If  a  tick  gets  on  you,  don't 
get  excited  and  pull  off  his  head — induce  him  to  back 
out  before  he  dies. 

One  of  the  worst  pests  of  the  woods,  especially  in 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

warm  country,  or  moist  country,  is  the  minute  little 
red  spider,  called  the  chigre  or  jigger.  There  is  noth- 
ing more  odious  in  all  created  nature  than  this  almost 
invisible  pest.  He  lurks  for  you  in  the  bark  of  the 
log  where  you  sit  down  to  rest,  or  drops  on  your 
clothing  from  the  leaves  or  the  grass  as  you  walk. 
Nothing  happens  then  for  perhaps  three  or  four  hours. 
Then  you  experience  an  intolerable  itching,  and  be- 
gin to  swell  up  in  bumps  about  as  big  as  a  hazel-nut — 
each  bump  being  a  place  where  a  chigre  has  set  up 
housekeeping.  This  irritation  will  continue  for  sev- 
eral days  and  sometimes  is  bad  enough  to  deprive 
one  of  all  sort  of  happiness  in  camp,  if  one  does  not 
know  how  to  handle  the  malady. 

It  is  suggested  that  chloroform  is  excellent  to  allay 
the  sting  of  chigre  bites,  and  sometimes  kerosene  has 
been  used  for  the  same  purpose.  Perhaps  you  may 
have  neither  of  these  remedies  along,  but  you  are  al- 
most sure  to  have  a  good  piece  of  bacon  rind — and 
that  is  the  standard  remedy  of  the  woodsman.  Rub 
the  bites,  and  the  places  that  are  not  yet  bites,  thor- 
oughly with  this  grease.  You  will  find  it  alleviating 
and  in  most  cases  specific.  Mercurial  ointment  no 
doubt  would  be  better,  but  bacon  rind  is  always  handy. 
It  will  do  as  prevention  as  well  as  cure.  Happily  the 
chigre  is  not  very  common  in  a  pine-wood  country. 
You  will  usually  find  him  in  hard-wood  country,  or 
72 


VACATION  NUISANCES 

in  the  warm  and  moist  parts  of  the  prairie  country. 
No  matter  where  found,  he  is  not  welcome. 

If  you  are  afflicted  by  insects  in  camp,  don't 
sit  down  and  moan  about  it  if  you  have  not  a 
drugstore  at  your  command — use  the  remedies  you 
have.  What  you  want  is  something  alkaline.  If  you 
have  not  ammonia,  use  strong  salt  and  water.  Try 
kerosene,  but  not  too  copiously.  Borolyptol  is  alle- 
viating for  mosquito  bites,  although  not  always  handy. 
That  very  thorough-going  woodsman  and  woods 
writer,  Mr.  Kephart — by  all  odds  the  most  accurate 
and  informing  of  the  book  writers  on  these  topics — 
suggests  that  you  can  kill  a  mosquito  bite  by  touching 
it  with  indigo,  or,  if  you  have  not  indigo,  then  by 
rubbing  it  with  a  raw  onion.  Even  whiskey — used 
externally — sometimes  will  take  a  part  of  the  sting  out 
of  the  bite. 

There  are  sand  flies  that  walk  by  day,  and  midges 
that  stalk  abroad  just  at  dusk.  Dope  will  do  for  them. 
Nets  do  not  always  keep  them  out  perfectly,  but 
they  do  not  fly  so  much  by  night. 

Some  people  have  a  great  horror  of  snakes,  and 
it  is  not  much  use  to  point  out  to  them  that  the  per- 
centage of  danger  is  very  slight  indeed,  and  that  it 
annually  grows  less,  in  the  temperate  zone  at  least, 
as  the  few  poisonous  species  more  and  more  approach 
extermination.  The  copperhead  snake,  once  of  the 
73 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

North,  now  infrequent  even  in  the  South,  is  or  was 
poisonous.  So  is  the  moccasin  snake  of  the  South, 
mostly  found  around  the  bayous  or  in  the  wet  country. 
The  several  species  of  the  rattlesnake,  very  widely 
distributed  at  one  time,  and  even  yet  to  be  found 
once  in  a  while,  over  a  great  part  of  the  United  States, 
are  very  poisonous.  The  bite  of  any  one  of  these 
snakes  might  produce  death  and  would  be  certain  to 
produce  great  danger  and  distress.  Any  American 
hunter  of  many  years'  experience  will  have  seen  one 
or  all  of  these  species.  I  have  killed  many  of  them, 
but  never  personally  knew  of  but  one  case  of  snake- 
bite, and  that  was  of  a  bird  dog,  bitten  by  some  snake, 
we  never  knew  what.  The  dog's  head  swelled  up  a 
great  deal,  and  for  some  days  he  suffered  a  great 
deal,  but  did  not  die  and  eventually  he  recovered  en- 
tirely. 

The  usual  remedy  for  snake-bite  is  whiskey,  and 
then  some  more  whiskey.  Doctors  say  it  is  no  good, 
but  if  you  have  nothing  better,  and  are  snake-bitten, 
it  may  help  you  forget  the  snake-bite,  if  it  does  not 
cure  it.  If  you  have  courage  to  cut  deeply  into  the 
wound  at  once,  when  the  bite  is  inflicted,  and  to 
squeeze  the  poison  out,  you  will  need  less  whiskey. 
It  would  not  do  much  good  to  cauterize  the  wound 
if  the  poison  were  under  the  scar.  I  remember  read- 
ing an  old  book  of  boys'  adventure,  long  since  out 
74 


VACATION  NUISANCES 

of  print,  which  told  of  the  rattlesnake  bite  cured  by 
the  application  of  the  bodies  of  many  fowls,  split 
open  along  the  back  and  applied  to  the  wound.  A 
sort  of  cupping  glass  can  be  made  of  a  bottle,  heated 
quite  hot  with  hot  water,  and  then  applied,  empty, 
with  the  mouth  to  the  wound. 

When  bitten  by  a  poisonous  snake  you  will  want  a 
doctor  and  probably  cannot  get  one.  Therefore,  cut 
the  wound  all  you  can,  and  take  whiskey,  at  least  for 
your  courage,  for  you  certainly  will  be  scared.  If 
the  heart  begins  to  drop  alarmingly,  perhaps  you  will 
be  doctor  enough  to  use  a  little  strychnin,  if  your 
medicine  case  should  contain  a  little  bottle  of  strych- 
nin in  one-sixtieth-grain  tablets,  but  be  careful  not 
to  take  strychnin,  whiskey  and  rattlesnake  all  at  once 
and  without  reservation. 

The  real  remedy  for  a  snake-bite  is  permanganate 
of  potassium.  If  you  are  in  bad  snake  country,  it 
is  just  as  well  to  have  along  a  few  of  the  crystals  and 
a  hypodermic  syringe  for  this  solution — you  can  get 
the  outfit  with  instructions  at  any  good  sporting  out- 
fitters. I  never  carried  one  in  my  travels,  but  think 
I  should  do  so  if  I  were  going  into  a  snake  country 
for  a  long  trip ;  certainly  I  should  do  so  if  I  were 
going  into  the  tropics. 

In  the  Southwest  we  used  to  have  centipedes — 
sometimes  in  our  boots,  sometimes  in  our  coatsleeves 
75 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

of  a  morning.  They  have  a  way  of  crawling  into 
your  blankets  at  night  also.  The  cowpunchers  al- 
ways said  that  the  bite  of  a  centipede  would  drive 
a  man  crazy,  and  that  if  one  crawled  across  a  man's 
flesh  its  feet  were  like  hot  needles  with  poison  in 
them.  The  range  remedy  was  usually  a  chaw  of 
tobacco  on  the  outside  and  a  horn  of  whiskey  on  the 
inside,  both  repeated  frequently. 

There  are  scorpions  also,  even  pretty  well  to  the 
northern  edge  of  the  Southern  states,  and  there  are 
tarantulas  in  a  great  part  of  the  dry  West  and  South- 
west. The  bite  of  none  of  these  creatures  is  apt  to 
be  fatal,  but  it  is  certain  to  be  the  cause  of  great 
suffering.  Cut  the  bite  open,  press  out  the  blood  the 
best  you  can.  Drench  it  with  ammonia  if  you  have 
it,  use  tobacco  and  whiskey  if  you  have  nothing  better. 
Of  course,  if  any  of  these  poisons  once  gets  into  the 
blood,  you  simply  will  have  to  stand  the  suffering 
until  nature  drives  it  out,  probably  after  some  days 
of  pain.  I  have  known  a  man  to  lose  half  the  fleshy 
part  of  his  thigh  from  a  bite  supposed  to  be  that  of 
a  scorpion. 

If  you  are  timorous  about  any  of  these  things, 
and  are  in  a  country  where  they  may  be  found,  carry 
a  hair  rope  with  you,  such  as  the  Mexicans  make 
out  of  horsehair.  Put  this  down  on  the  ground  in 
a  loop  around  your  bed.  The  cowpunchers  always 
76 


VACATION  NUISANCES 

said  that  no  scorpion,  tarantula  or  rattler  would  crawl 
over  a  hair  rope.  That  may  be  superstition,  just  as 
the  whiskey  antidote  may  be  superstition,  but  if  either 
is  comforting  to  you,  why  not  use  it,  whether  in 
prevention  or  in  cure  respectively?  And  perhaps  also 
you  will  remember  the  old  saying  that  a  rattlesnake 
would  not  cross  a  little  streak  of  the  ashes  of  the 
black  ash,  if  you  mark  that  around  your  bed.  I 
presume  a  great  many  rattlesnakes  have  not  crossed 
either  a  hair  rope  or  a  streak  of  ashes. 

All  these  details  regarding  woods  pests,  nuisances 
and  dangers  are  gruesome  in  the  telling,  but  the  ac- 
tual discomfort  regarding  some  of  them  can  be  pre- 
vented or  cured,  and  the  actual  danger  of  the  others 
is  really  very  inconsiderable  in  this  country  today. 
The  mosquito  is  far  more  dangerous  than  the  rattle- 
snake, the  chigre  more  to  be  dreaded  than  the  scor- 
pion, the  tick  far  more  than  the  tarantula.  It  is 
just  as  well,  therefore,  to  know  how  to  take  care  of 
yourself  in  camp  in  such  way  as  to  cure  or  prevent  the 
bad  effects  of  all  these  nuisances,  great  or  small. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  man  is  the  shiftiest  and  most 
resourceful  of  all  the  animals.  You  very  soon  learn 
the  discomforts  in  any  given  camping  locality,  and 
very  soon  you  learn  to  overcome  them,  so  that  you 
can  be  quite  comfortable  in  camp,  in  almost  any  cir- 
cumstances. And,  of  course,  what  applies  to  the 
77 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

camp  proper  applies  also  to  the  summer  resort  or 
country  hotel.  Many  a  vacation  has  been  unpleasant 
or  unsatisfying  where  a  little  knowledge  of  some  sim- 
ple things,  and  a  little  personal  resourcefulness  would 
have  brought  in  quite  a  different  story. 


IV 
IN  THE  JUNK  CLOSET 


IV 
IN  THE  JUNK  CLOSET 

THE  most  wholly  delectable  place  in  the  house, 
as  any  outdoor  man  knows  very  well,  is 
that  certain  apartment,  room  or  receptacle 
usually  by  the  real  head  of  the  house  called  "the  junk 
closet."  Here  is  where  your  true  outer  stores  much 
wealth  of  clothing,  guns,  rifles,  rods,  fishing  tackle, 
footwear,  cooking  utensils  and  all  of  the  general 
gear  which  he  classifies  among  his  chiefest  treasures. 
You  have  such  a  place  yourself,  without  doubt.  It 
is  a  place  full  of  interest  and  instruction  and  history. 

For  instance,  when  just  the  other  day  while  tug- 
ging at  a  bootlace  on  the  top  shelf,  you  pulled  down 
a  blackened  and  battered  kettle  on  your  head — the 
stew-pot  which  has  accompanied  you  on  many  tours 
— it  might  to  another  have  seemed  empty  at  the  time, 
but  not  so  to  you.  On  the  contrary,  there  is  much 
that  a  well-educated  stew-pot  can  preach  to  any  man, 
savage  or  civilized,  out  of  doors  or  in  the  home. 

Not  long  ago,  fault  of  anything  better,  I  went 
rabbit-hunting  with  a  man  who  had  a  sort  of  shack 
81 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

out  in  the  country  where  sometimes  he  did  a  little 
trapping  or  shooting  or  fishing,  at  this  or  that  time  of 
the  year.  We  had  walked  hard  and  were  hungry,  so 
presently  repaired  to  the  shack  aforesaid  to  make  us 
up  a  meal.  No  one  had  been  there  for  some  days. 
We  found  a  loaf  of  bread,  very  dry,  and  some  coffee 
berries.  Besides,  we  had  some  rabbits.  It  does  not 
sound  like  so  much  of  a  meal.  Perhaps  our  banquet 
did  not  cost  us  over  six  cents  a  plate.  But,  quite 
outside  of  the  outdoor  appetite,  the  point  to  be  made 
is  that  it  really  was  good  to  eat,  and  that  with  no 
better  equipment  you  also  may  knock  together  some- 
thing good  to  eat. 

We  did  not  have  time,  in  our  hunting,  to  stop  to 
make  a  stew,  so  for  the  time  we  fell  back  upon  that 
American  standby,  the  frying-pan — it  is  American 
and  wasteful,  just  as  the  stew-pot  is  European  and 
economical.  Our  rabbit  was  rather  freshly  killed, 
to  be  sure,  but  fresh  corn-fed  rabbit,  when  young,  is 
good  to  eat.  The  proprietor  of  the  shack,  one  of 
those  natural  outdoor  men  who  just  naturally  take  to 
doing  things  right  in  the  open,  proved  this  to  the  sat- 
isfaction of  both  of  us. 

He  built  a  fire  in  the  cookstove  and  heated  up  abun- 
dance of  hot  lard  in  his  frying-pan.  Into  this  he  put 
sections  of  the  choicer  cuts  of  a  couple  of  rabbits, 
which  in  a  few  moments  were  sizzling  hot  and  dis- 
82 


IN  THE  JUNK  CLOSET 

posed  to  be  golden  brown  of  color.  The  point  is  that 
he  did  not  simply  fry  his  rabbit  and  then  take  it  off, 
more  or  less  tough  and  stringy.  On  the  contrary, 
after  it  was  well  cooked,  he  poured  some  water  into 
the  fried  rabbit,  put  on  the  cover  of  the  pan  and  al- 
lowed it  to  steam  for  a  few  moments.  This  is  a 
trick  worth  remembering.  It  made  the  rabbit  very 
tender  and  sweet,  much  better  than  it  would  have 
been  if  simply  fried  and  left  more  or  less  greasy — in 
fact,  left  it  tasting  not  a  little  like  chicken. 

Our  cook  had  poured  off  some  of  the  grease  be- 
fore putting  in  the  water,  and  now  he  proceeded  to 
add  flour  and  a  trifle  of  salt,  with  the  effect  that  he 
fabricated  a  very  excellent  gravy  for  the  tender  rabbit, 
whose  fragrance  now  arose.  Meantime,  he  had  cut 
some  slices  of  the  dry  loaf,  and  placed  them  in  a 
dripping-pan  which  he  shut  up  in  the  oven.  To  my 
own  intelligence  this  seemed  indicative  neither  of 
zwieback  nor  toast.  Our  cook  presently  opened  the 
oven  door  and  sprinkled  his  slowly  browning  slices 
of  bread  over  with  water.  "That'll  make  her  ten- 
derer," said  he;  and  so  it  did.  The  bread  was  very 
palatable  and  sweet,  as  was  the  rabbit.  The  point  of 
which  is  that  water  and  steam  are  of  use  in  handling 
fresh  rabbit  or  dry  bread — something  which  perhaps 
you  yourself  have  not  yet  discovered.  What  with 
these  two  items  and  a  good  pot  of  coffee,  we  would 
83 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

not  have  surrendered  our  banquet  plates  for  six  dol- 
lars each,  that  is  sure. 

We  fell  to  talking  of  stews,  regretting  that  we  had 
not  time  to  use  the  five-gallon  oil  can  which  offered 
so  inviting  an  opportunity  to  build  a  real  stew. 
"We'll  come  down  here  and  have  a  big  coon  hunt  next 
week,"  said  one  of  the  chaps,  "and  we'll  just  set 
that  can  on  early  in  the  evening,  and  when  we  come 
in  about  midnight  it'll  be  just  about  ready  to  be  good." 

Since  we  could  not  devise  our  stew  at  the  time,  it 
was  agreed  between  us  we  should  devise  meantime 
a  formula  for  a  real  stew,  this  to  be  executed  in  town 
the  following  day.  It  was  so  devised,  formulated  and 
executed,  and  here  we  come  to  direct  proof  of  the 
virtues  of  the  stew-pot  proper. 

We  called  our  stew  a  Brunswick  stew,  using  the 
name  of  a  compound  as  famous  as  it  is  various,  which 
seems  to  have  come  down  from  the  past  to  the  great 
good  of  those  who  hunt  or  those  who  like  game. 
Properly  speaking,  it  is  a  game  stew.  As  to  its  di- 
mensions, it  perhaps  two-thirds  filled  a  three-gallon 
stew-kettle.  The  compounding  and  cooking  created 
great  excitement  in  a  certain  household  for  the  better 
part  of  a  day. 

We  had,  as  it  chanced,  a  squirrel  beside  abundant 
rabbits.  More  squirrels  would  have  been  better;  but 
in  a  hunters'  stew  of  this  sort  you  have  to  use  what 
84 


IN  THE  JUNK  CLOSET 

you  have — ducks,  rabbits,  quail,  grouse,  or  what  has 
fallen  to  your  bow  and  spear.  Meat,  such  as  veni- 
son, you  can  stew,  but  perhaps  in  that  case  you  will 
not  get  so  delicate  and  tasteful  a  compound  as  we 
ourselves  certainly  discovered. 

We  put  in  all  of  our  solitary  squirrel,  as  well  as 
the  hind  legs  and  saddles  of  about  three  rabbits, 
more  or  less,  carefully  cutting  out  the  bloodshot  por- 
tions, and  throwing  away  the  flanks  and  most  of  the 
forelegs.  All  of  this  meat  was  left,  washed  clean, 
while  we  took  up  the  vegetable  side  of  the  problem. 

Into  our  kettle  we  poured  the  contents  of  one  can 
of  mock-turtle  soup— real  green  turtle  would  have 
done  quite  as  well — a  can  of  tomatoes,  one  of  corn, 
one  of  red  kidney  beans  and  one  of  green  peas.  We 
poured  off  most  of  the  liquor  from  the  peas,  but  added 
a  quart  of  water  to  the  contents  of  the  kettle  and  then 
put  in  the  meat. 

Meantime  other  departments  of  the  enterprise  were 
active.  We  had  about  a  pound  and  a  half  of  bacon 
— salt  pork  would  have  been  as  good  or  better — and 
this  was  cut  criss-cross  with  a  hunting-knife,  clean 
through  to  the  rind,  so  that  it  fell  apart  in  tiny  cubes 
not  over  an  eighth  of  an  inch  across.  Take  notice 
that  we  did  not  dump  these  indiscriminately  into  the 
stew-pot.  On  the  contrary,  we  fried  them  thoroughly 
in  the  frying-pan,  and  poured  off  most  of  the  grease 
85 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

— leaving  only  sufficient  grease  thoroughly  to  fry  three 
large  and  succulent  onions,  which  gave  off  a  fra- 
grance of  exceeding  excellence  thereupon.  The  con- 
tents of  the  frying-pan  thereafter  went  into  the  stew- 
pot.  Someone  thought  it  would  be  fine  to  .put  in 
plenty  of  salt,  so  we  put  in  about  three  tablespoons- 
ful.  It  was  not  too  much.  A  stew  needs  plenty  of 
salt.  We  also  tossed  in  a  teaspoon ful  of  pepper,  I 
should  say. 

Nor  was  this  all.  The  stew  needed  somewhat  of 
thickening  and  richening.  All  of  the  ingredients  we 
had  used,  meat,  bacon,  vegetables  and  all,  were  first 
class  of  their  kind.  Fresh  vegetables  would  have- done 
as  well,  no  doubt,  but  we  did  not  have  them.  Now 
we  took  about  a  half  or  three-quarters  of  a  pound 
of  fine  butter  and  about  a  teacupful  of  flour,  and 
mixed  these  thoroughly  on  a  plate.  The  compound 
resultant,  whatever  it  may  be  called,  next  went  into 
the  stew-pot. 

There  seemed  to  be  nothing  else  we  could  put  in 
at  the  time,  but  a  glance  happening  to  fall  on  a  bottle 
of  Worcestershire  sauce  which  stood  nearby,  we  put 
in  a  tablespoon  ful  of  that  for  luck — and  it  was  an 
inspiration!  Added  to  the  abundantly  spiced  nature 
of  our  can  of  mock-turtle  soup,  we  now  had  a  rich 
and  well  seasoned  compound,  the  proof  of  which  was 
in  the  eating. 

86 


IN  THE  JUNK  CLOSET 

It  was  now  one-thirty  of  the  clock.  Reverently  we 
placed  our  stew-kettle  on  top  of  the  stove  with  a 
strong  and  steady  fire  beneath  it,  of  heat  just  suffi- 
cient to  keep  it  simmering  steadily.  Then  most  of 
us  went  about  other  business.  The  pot  was  watched 
from  time  to  time  during  the  afternoon.  Sometimes 
it  was  stirred  to  keep  the  flour  from  sticking  to  the 
bottom.  It  was  only  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that 
the  assistant  who  did  the  stirring  could  refrain  from 
falling  at  once  upon  the  contents  of  the  kettle,  so 
appealing  had  its  fragrance  become  within  the  passage 
of  two  hours.  At  seven-thirty  of  the  clock  that  same 
night  we  ate  about  a  gallon  of  it.  It  was  delicious. 
Take  our  word  for  it,  if  you  make  a  stew  precisely 
on  the  foregoing  lines  it  will  be  a  success.  Also  it  will 
be  a  square  meal.  It  will  be  first  aid  to  the  injured 
and  a  balanced  ration  all  in  one.  Fed  upon  this  man- 
ner of  manna — or  manna  of  manner,  as  they  would 
say  in  New  York — you  shall  go  forth  and  prevail 
mightily  in  the  land.  As  to  what  such  a  stew  as  this 
would  mean  to  a  party  of  tired  coon  hunters  at  mid- 
night's holy  hour — hush,  man,  let  us  not  speak  of 
sacred  matters! 

Our  camp  cook,  the  hunter  and  trapper,  declares 
himself  of  the  intent  to  set  up  the  Brunswick  stew 
as  one  of  the  institutions  of  his  shack,  winter  or  sum- 
mer. He  says  that  in  the  summertime  they  often 
8? 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

catch  a  good  many  mud  turtles  in  their  nets  and  is  of 
the  belief — in  which  I  concur — that  the  turtle  flesh 
will  be  excellent  in  one  of  these  stews.  So  would 
quail  or  grouse  be  excellent,  and  in  camp  one  could 
add  beans  or  rice,  or  such  vegetables  as  offered.  Per- 
haps the  tin  of  commercial  mock-turtle  soup  is  not 
ethical,  yet,  like  other  unethical  things,  it  is  mighty 
practical — there  is  something  in  the  high  flavoring  of 
the  tinned  soup  which  makes  the  whole  compound 
tasteful.  Perhaps  even  a  half  tin  of  the  soup  would 
be  sufficient.  For  most  tastes,  however,  the  seasoning 
mentioned  above  will  prove  very  alluring. 

All  of  which  matters,  very  naturally,  come  to  your 
mind  when  your  pet  stew-pot  falls  off  the  top  shelf 
and  lands  on  your  head  in  the  junk  closet. 

What  is  the  best  stew-pot  for  camp  use?  Ob- 
viously, the  one  which  you  happen  to  have.  You  can 
use  an  iron  kettle,  or  a  Dutch  oven,  or  a  powder  keg, 
or  a  square  oil  can,  or  lard  case.  Or  if  you  be  lucky, 
you  may  have  an  aluminum  kettle.  Do  not  get  the 
stew-pan  with  the  long  handle  on  the  side,  for  you 
can  neither  cook  so  well  with  it  nor  handle  it  so  well. 
Only  remember  that  your  fire  should  never  be  ex- 
treme, and  that  your  cooking  of  the  stew  must  ex- 
tend over  several  hours'  time.  Indeed,  a  good  hunt- 
ers' stew  is  an  imperishable  and  perennial  thing.  You 
can  put  fresh  stuff  into  it  every  day  and  keep  it  going 
88 


IN  THE  JUNK  CLOSET 

throughout  the  season  if  you  like.  Don't  burn  the 
stew.  Take  your  time  to  it. 

For  the  eating  of  a  stew  a  large  tin  cup  is  an  ex- 
cellent receptacle,  or  a  deep  tin  plate.  Don't  try  to 
make  your  own  dishes  out  of  bark  and  such  stuff  in 
camp — you  can  do  it,  but  it  is  not  necessary.  Also 
you  can  make  a  fire  by  twirling  a  hard  stick  on  a  piece 
of  board.  It  is  much  simpler  to  strike  a  match  on  your 
pants.  This  is  a  practical  aid. 

As  to  that  large  wooden-handled  fork  and  that 
long-handled  spoon  so  often  brought  to  mind — see 
that  they  rest  by  your  fireside.  And  when  you  are 
moved  to  fabricate  a  stew,  take  the  aforesaid  long- 
handled  spoon,  and  bend  the  top  of  the  handle  over 
into  a  hook.  Then  it  will  not  slip  down  into  the  ket- 
tle. This  idea  is  known  to  a  few,  and  is  worth  at 
least  a  thousand  dollars  to  any  man. 

Do  you  not  remember  the  time  in  the  mountains 
when  you  killed  your  first  elk,  the  one  you  had  longed 
for  those  many  years?  And  when  you  came  into  the 
camp  long  after  dark,  tired  and  happy,  leading  your 
own  saddle  horse  with  the  elk-head  lashed  upon  it, 
do  you  not  recall  the  fragrance  which  rose  to  your 
nostrils  when  you  came  into  camp? — into  camp  where 
the  fire  was  making  shadows  all  over  the  trees,  and 
where  the  camp  cook  was  passing  quietly  about  get- 
ting things  ready,  since  he  had  heard  you  coming? 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

And  do  you  remember  that  in  the  kettle  he  had  a  stew 
of  meat  and  vegetables  which  he  put  on  that  morning 
when  you  started  out?  This  perhaps  was  the  aroma 
which  came  to  your  senses  when  you  leaned  your  rifle 
against  the  spruce-tree  and  loosened  your  belt  at  the 
close  of  the  day.  The  stew  and  the  coffee  and  the 
grilled  elk  ribs  roasted  in  front  of  the  fire — even  the 
bit  of  liver  done  in  the  frying-pan — something  of  a 
memory,  eh,  what?  And  it  all  came  back  when  the 
stew-kettle  dropped  and  smote  you  upon  the  occipital 
portion  of  your  cranium,  nut,  or  coco,  there  in  the 
junk  closet. 

Nor  was  that  all  that  happened.  When  you  were 
putting  the  kettle  back  on  the  top  shelf  whence  it  had 
fallen,  you  knocked  off  from  one  of  the  hooks  another 
precious  possession.  It  was  fragrant  alike  in  memory 
and  in  fact — fragrant  with  the  smoke  of  the  camp 
and  the  memories  of  the  open — your  buckskin  shirt. 

It  all  depends  on  what  you  want  to  do.  In  church 
or  at  a  directors'  meeting  or  at  grand  opera  a  buck- 
skin shirt  is  not  particularly  appropriate.  The  hunters' 
clubs  of  the  great  cities  sometimes  give  buckskin  din- 
ners for  the  lark  of  it.  These  big-game  clubs  now  are 
active  and  growing  institutions  in  some  of  the  larger 
cities — bodies  such  as  the  Hunters'  Fraternity  or  the 
Campfire  Club,  or  the  Boone  and  Crockett  Club  of 
New  York,  the  Lewis  and  Clark  Club  of  Pittsburgh, 
90 


IN  THE  JUNK  CLOSET 

the  Hunters'  Fraternity  of  Chicago,  etc.  Most  or 
many  of  the  members  of  these  clubs  will  sneakingly 
admit  the  ownership  of  a  buckskin  shirt  and  confess 
inability  to  name  a  proper  place  to  wear  it  in  these 
modern  days.  It  is  the  most  impossible  and  yet  the 
most  impeccable  garment  of  all  the  sportsman's  trous- 
seau. 

For  the  simon-pure  incorrigible  there  is  no  smell  in 
the  world  quite  so  sweet  as  that  of  smoke-tanned  buck- 
skin. It  is  as  imperishable  as  attar  of  roses  and  far 
more  sweet,  the  smell  of  the  smoke  which  lingers  with 
it.  When  the  stew-kettle  fell  on  your  head,  and  you 
stopped  to  hang  up  your  wholly  absurd,  wholly  use- 
less buckskin  shirt,  you  could  hardly  keep  from  press- 
ing it  to  your  face  and  taking  a  deep,  strong  inhala- 
tion, if  only  for  the  sake  of  the  pictures  it  evoked. 

In  the  old  days  of  the  weekly  funny  papers  of 
America  one  of  the  erstwhile  famous  humorists 
wrote  a  story  about  the  man  with  the  velvet  coat. 
It  was  his  allegation  that  every  man,  no  matter  what 
his  station  in  life,  had  at  one  or  other  stage  of  his 
career  either  owned  or  yearned  to  own  a  velvet  coat. 
Now  that  I  recall  it  I  wore  one  myself  when  I  was 
very  young — did  not  you?  Therefore,  as  to  a  buck- 
skin shirt,  of  course  you  have  one,  or  want  one,  or 
are  going  to  have  one. 

What  a  map  of  the  outdoor  world  hangs  in  the 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

little  junk  closet!  Here  are  rolls  of  buckskin  from 
almost  everywhere,  Kootenai  buck,  white  and  fine, 
and  Black  foot  bighorn,  tanned,  and  Crow-tanned  elk, 
and  Micmac  moose,  and  caribou  from  above  the  Arctic 
circle,  and  other  moose  from  the  Peace  River  coun- 
try— what  a  waste  of  life  there  has  been  for  some  of 
us,  to  be  sure.  But  who  would  part  with  any  one  of 
these  rolls  of  buckskin,  whether  soft  and  white  and 
odorless,  or  yellow-brown  and  rich  in  smoke?  After 
a  while,  some  time,  one  is  going  to  make  something 
out  of  one  or  other  of  these  skins — is  it  not  true? 

But  take  buckskin  just  as  an  article,  as  a  fabric, 
as  a  product,  an  industrial  product.  It  has  not  only 
history,  but  exceedingly  interesting  history.  More- 
over, it  has  utility  even  where  it  does  not  own  the 
stamp  of  fashion.  So  far  as  I  knew  at  the  time,  I 
was  the  first  man  of  my  acquaintance  to  have  my 
shoemaker  make  me  up,  over  a  regular  last,  a  pair 
of  shoes  built  of  moose  hide,  smoke-tanned  by  the 
Cree  Indians.  There  was  never  a  better  pair  of  walk- 
ing-shoes made  than  these.  Of  course,  they  would 
not  turn  water,  but,  made  as  they  were  with  a  flexible 
sole,  they  were  the  softest,  coolest,  warmest,  dandiest 
walking-boots  I  ever  wore.  I  made  a  present  of  a 
similar  pair  to  a  friend  in  Winnipeg.  They  laughed 
at  him — until  winter  came.  He  did  not  need  over- 
shoes. 

92 


IN  THE  JUNK  CLOSET 

Then  again,  perhaps  you  have  noticed  Madame 
with  her  fine  white  boots  to  go  with  her  pique  cos- 
tume in  the  summertime — boots  made  by  her  own  boot- 
maker over  a  private  last  ?  Being  white,  perhaps  they 
make  Madame's  feet  look  a  little  bit  large,  but  even 
feminine  vanity  will  condone  that  in  view  of  the  ex- 
treme ease  of  wear.  Her  bootmaker  has  sold  her 
buckskin — white  buckskin,  made  by  a  white  man, 
not  worth  the  tenth  of  Indian-tanned  buck,  yet  ex- 
cellent even  so. 

You  can  make  your  own  buckskin  if  you  are  a  regu- 
lar woods-rat.  I  cannot  think  of  any  accomplishment 
more  utterly  useless  than  an  ability  to  make  buckskin ; 
but  it  is  the  utterly  useless  things  of  life  which  give 
us  nearly  all  the  fun  we  get.  The  best  teacher  you 
can  have  is  an  Indian  woman.  Indeed  it  is  much 
better  to  let  the  Indian  woman  aforesaid  do  all  the 
work  of  making  the  buckskin.  No  white  man  can 
really  pitch  a  lodge  so  it  will  not  smoke,  or  make 
buckskin  of  an  even  and  permanent  softness  and  color. 
It  takes  an  Indian  woman  to  do  either. 

Your  Indian  has  no  conscience,  and  he  knows  that 
the  best  buckskin  is  summer-killed  doe.  Buck  leather 
from  elk  is  not  so  good.  Moose  makes  far  better 
leather,  especially  for  moccasins.  If  there  were  any 
antelope  left,  you  could  even  use  their  hides.  The 
whitest  and  softest  buckskin — for  so  we  still  must 
93 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

call  the  native  product — was  made  from  the  skin  of 
the  mountain  bighorn.  That  was  the  skin  of  which 
the  Indian  women  fifty  years  or  more  ago  made  their 
finest  dresses,  genuine  works  of  art  of  much  value 
today — the  sort  that  once  were  covered  with  the  now 
priceless  teeth  of  the  elk.  It  was  a  marvel  how  white 
the  leather  was  often  made  by  these  Indian  artisans. 
Today  in  the  far  North,  north  of  fifty-five,  you  may 
go  into  a  dirty  Indian  tent  and,  by  proper  induce- 
ments, find  at  length,  hid  under  the  ragged  blankets 
or  odds  and  ends  scattered  on  the  floor,  a  bag  inside 
of  which  is  a  snow  white  skin  of  caribou  leather. 
That  is  the  sort  the  Indian  women  use  for  the  tops 
of  their  fancy  moccasins.  They  smoke  it  mostly;  but 
if  they  are  using  it  for  an  ornamental  band  or  flap, 
they  leave  it  snow-white,  embroidered  with  fine  silks, 
or  ornamented  with  beads.  I  don't  know  how  they 
make  this  white  tan,  but  very  probably  they  do  it  by 
repeated  washings  and  wringings  and  rubbings.  Per- 
haps they  use  a  little  soap.  I  don't  think  they  use  any 
alum. 

In  general,  Indian-tanned  buckskin  means  the  yel- 
low-brown smoked  article.  Perhaps  you  remember 
Grandpa's  buffalo  robe.  It  was  sort  of  dark  color  on 
the  inside,  and  it  was  split  up  the  middle  and  sewed 
together.  That  meant  it  was  a  genuine  Indian-tanned 
robe,  the  best  ever  made.  A  large  buffalo  skin  was 
94 


IN  THE  JUNK  CLOSET 

too  big  for  the  Indian  woman  to  handle  well  in  tan- 
ning, so  she  split  it,  tanned  the  two  halves,  and  then 
sewed  them  together  again  with  sinew  thread,  the 
same  sort  of  thread  which  Lizette,  Loucheux  woman 
on  the  Mackenzie,  has  used  to  sew  her  white  caribou 
these  centuries  past. 

Laughing  Water  tanned  her  buffalo  hides  by  the 
same  process  she  used  on  elk  or  sheep.  The  only 
ingredients  she  used  were  brains,  muscle  and  patience. 
Beyond  a  little  smoke  that  was  all.  And  the  greatest 
of  these  was  patience.  Of  course,  the  buffalo  robe 
had  the  hair  left  on.  It  was  stretched  flat  on  the 
ground,  flesh  side  up,  and  then  scraped  and  pared 
and  chopped  thin  by  the  Indian  woman  with  her 
little  bone  or  iron-edged  hoe  or  scraper — a  tool  you 
could  never  learn  to  use,  but  which  in  her  hands  did 
magic.  She  did  not  salt  her  buffalo  hides  and  she 
never  had  seen  alum — that  bane  of  good  fur,  often 
used  as  a  ready  aid  in  amateur  tanning.  She  simply 
used  patience  and  muscle  and  maybe  smoke. 

In  buckskin  proper  the  hair  must  be  removed,  of 
course.  If  the  northern  Indian  is  making  a  caribou 
coat  for  warmth  the  hair  is  left  on,  and  the  hide  is 
tanned  as  the  old  buffalo  hides  once  were.  For  moc- 
casin or  shirt  leather  or  tobacco  pouches  or  the  like, 
buckskin  proper  had  to  be  made.  The  first  thing  in 
the  making  was  to  get  the  hair  off. 
95 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

The  savage  tanner  had  no  vats.  She  knew,  how- 
ever, some  running  stream  or  some  muddy  pond.  Her 
first  step  in  getting  the  hair  off  a  hide  was  to  bury 
it  in  the  water  or  in  the  mud  for  three  days  to  a 
week.  Usually  in  four  or  five  days  the  hair  would 
slip  readily.  Then  Laughing  Water  would  take  her 
buck  hide  and  throw  it  over  a  log  or  a  pole,  and  work- 
ing from  the  neck  down,  with  the  grain  of  the  hair, 
either  with  her  little  iron  hoe,  or  with  the  back  of 
her  butcher  knife,  which  she  used  as  a  graining  tool, 
would  remove  every  trace  of  hair  literally  with  neat- 
ness and  dispatch.  Sometimes  around  Chippewa 
camps  I  have  found  great  heaps  of  deer  hair,  and  it 
felt  coarse  and  gritty,  as  though  it  had  ashes  in  it.  I 
suspect  that  ashes  had  been  added  to  the  water  to 
effect  the  slipping  of  the  hair.  This  was  not  neces- 
sary or  typical  in  the  Indian  camp.  Usually  the 
process  was  to  bury  the  hide  in  clean  water. 

From  this  time  on  savage  and  civilized  tanning 
lose  all  likeness  one  to  the  other.  The  white  man  uses 
tanning  liquids  and  produces  leather.  Laughing  Water 
uses  nothing  of  the  sort  and  she  produces  buckskin, 
which  is  not  leather  at  all.  There  is  no  romance 
about  leather — you  cannot  grow  enthusiastic  over  it. 
It  is  something  dead.  But  buckskin  is  not  some- 
thing dead,  but  something  alive.  All  its  original 
chemistry  is  there  yet.  All  the  fibers  are  there,  only 
96 


IN  THE  JUNK  CLOSET 

they  are  broken  so  that  they  are  permanently  softened. 

Laughing  Water  takes  her  buck  hide  now  and  re- 
verses it  on  the  beam.  Now  she  begins  to  scrape  at 
the  flesh  side.  This  is  a  work  of  art  and  may  be  a 
work  of  genius,  for  some  Indian  women  are  noted  for 
their  skill  in  dressing  hides.  Here  is  the  operation 
essential  to  the  success  of  the  Indian  tan — all  the  in- 
tegument must  be  removed,  all  the  horny  spots  taken 
out,  all  the  flesh  removed.  Working  over  the  beam, 
or  perhaps  more  often  on  the  ground,  and  quite  often 
with  the  hide  placed  in  a  frame,  Laughing  Water 
keeps  on,  patiently,  skillfully,  with  her  scraping  tool 
of  this  or  that  shape,  until  the  flesh  surface  of  the 
hide  is  even  and  soft.  She  may  do  this  in  one  day 
or  in  several.  Perhaps  the  hide  now  has  been  a 
week  in  the  tanning.  Laughing  Water  is  in  no  hurry 
about  it.  If  she  were  tanning  a  bear  hide,  in  all 
likelihood  she  would  lace  the  hide  in  a  pole  frame 
and  use  it  as  she  would  a  buffalo  hide.  Sometimes 
Laughing  Water  will  spread  the  buck  hide  across  her 
knees,  and  at  risk  of  limb  or  finger,  would  trim  at 
this  or  that  spot  which  did  not  suit  her.  The  Gros 
Ventres  squaws  were  said  to  be  the  most  particular 
hide-dressers  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Be  sure  the 
essential  application  of  their  art  was  in  this  part  of 
the  tan,  or  that  immediately  following. 

The  hide  is  now  a  rather  ragged-looking  article,  but 

97 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

it  is  not  parchment  or  rawhide.  It  is  getting  soft. 
Laughing  Water  now  calls  in  the  neighbors.  They 
twist  and  pull  the  hide  every  which  way,  drag  it 
around  a  lodge  pole,  throw  it  over  a  thick  sinew 
rope  and  saw  it  up  and  down,  do  all  sorts  of  things 
to  break  the  fiber  of  the  hide — that  is  to  say,  give 
it  its  imperishable  quality.  It  takes  muscle  and 
patience  to  do  this.  Perhaps  in  the  far  North  you  may 
have  seen  small  spruce-trees  with  their  trunks  pecu- 
liarly cut  into  triangles,  sharp-edged.  Here  was  where 
the  women  dragged  their  moose  hides  back  and  forth 
to  make  them  soft. 

The  last  stage  but  one  of  the  Indian  tan  had  to  do 
with  the  permanent  softening  of  the  hide.  Laughing 
Water  took  the  skull  of  the  deer  or  other  animal 
whose  hide  she  was  tanning,  split  it  open  with  her 
little  hatchet,  and  took  out  the  brains.  She  now 
rubbed  a  thick  coating  of  the  crushed  brains  not  on 
the  flesh  side  but  the  hair  side  of  the  hide,  where 
the  grain  was  most  open.  If  she  were  tanning  a 
large  bear  or  buffalo  hide  she  might  have  a  pot  of 
mingled  brains  and  liver  and  scrapings  and  grease; 
but  the  real  secret  of  the  Indian  tan  is  animal  brains 
and  nothing  else.  Laughing  Water  allows  the  brains 
to  dry  into  the  hide  slowly,  in  a  cool  place — she  never 
leaves  it  in  the  sun  or  near  the  fire. 

After  the  brains  have  dried  in,  the  hide  is  again 
98 


IN  THE  JUNK  CLOSET 

rubbed,  twisted,  stretched  and  drawn  until  it  is  thor- 
oughly soft.  The  brains  do  not  leave  it  greasy,  but- 
pliable.  They  have  some  peculiar  property  all  their 
own.  This  property  was  discovered  by  the  American 
aborigine,  no  one  knows  how  long  ago.  Laughing 
Water  accepts  no  substitute.  There  is  nothing  else 
just  as  good. 

At  any  stage  up  to  this  time  it  has  been  quite  pos- 
sible to  wash  the  hide  clean  with  soap  and  water,  or 
with  water  alone,  then  wringing  it,  and  stretching 
it  and  rubbing  it  quite  dry.  There  cannot  be  too 
much  rubbing  and  twisting  and  stretching — no  white 
man  will  take  the  pains  to  do  it  right.  But  Laughing 
Water  has  done  it  right,  and  she  knows  that  nothing 
now  remains  but  to  smoke  the  hide. 

There  were  different  ways  used  in  smoking  buck- 
skin. Sometimes  a  heavy  hide  would  simply  be 
thrown  on  top  of  the  flat-roofed  frame  of  poles, 
above  the  fire.  The  best  buckskin  was  not  made  in 
this  way,  however.  Probably  Laughing  Water  would 
make  a  little  tepee,  and  stretch  two  or  three  hides 
around  the  little  fire  in  the  middle  of  it,  reversing 
the  hides  as  they  colored.  She  used  what  fuel  she 
could  get  for  this,  but  soft  or  punky  wood  made 
a  better  smoke.  Of  late  years  it  is  to  be  confessed 
that  the  Indian  women  of  the  reservation  very  often 
use  a  barrel  as  a  smoke-house,  that  is  to  say,  they 
99 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

knock  both  ends  off  a  barrel  and  stretch  the  hide  over 
the  top  end  over  a  little  fire  built  on  the  ground.  This 
smoking  is  kept  up  carefully  and  evenly,  and  much  of 
the  beauty  of  the  buckskin  depends  upon  the  thor- 
oughness of  this  part  of  the  tanning. 

At  last  Laughing  Water  looks  on  the  work  of  her 
hands  and  pronounces  it  good.  Some  day  she  sits 
down  to  make  a  buckskin  shirt — no  white  man  or 
woman  can  make  a  buckskin  shirt.  She  is  imitative 
of  the  white,  these  days,  so  very  likely  she  cuts  out 
her  buckskin  shirt  in  the  pattern  of  an  old  flannel 
shirt  which  she  has  ripped  open.  It  opens  part  way 
down  the  front  and  fastens  with  buttons,  very  likely, 
the  sort  Laughing  Water  can  find  at  the  trader's  store. 
She  will  also  execute  a  little  collar  for  the  shirt, 
perhaps.  Perhaps,  also,  she  will  make  it  double- 
breasted,  like  a  fireman's  flannel  shirt — in  which  case, 
if  Laughing  Water  is  a  Chippewa  squaw  living  near 
civilization,  she  will  execute  on  the  bosom  the  pattern 
in  beads  of  a  large  buck  with  flashing  eyes;  where- 
after she  will  sell  it  to  you  for  twenty-five  dollars. 

The  buckskin  shirt  proper  of  the  old  days  was 
simply  a  tunic,  not  opening  in  front  more  than  enough 
to  allow  the  head  to  pass  through.  Sometimes  there 
was  a  little  flap  which  buttoned  across  the  neck.  No 
buckskin  shirt  is  entitled  to  be  called  such  which  has 
not  fringed  seams.  When  the  Indian  woman,  having 

IOO 


IN  THE  JUNK  CLOSET 

rolled  over  her  knee  the  threads  made  of  the  back 
sinews  perhaps  of  the  buck  himself,  began  to  do  her 
wonderfully  neat  and  accurate  seam  work,  she  let 
into  the  seam  the  edge  of  a  strip  of  fine  leather, 
which  was  cut  into  narrow  fringes.  You  would  not 
love  your  shirt  so  much  if  it  were  not  for  these 
fringes  across  the  shoulder  and  down  the  arm  seam. 
Why  did  the  savage  artist  put  them  there?  It  was 
to  protect  the  seams  against  wear  and  the  weather. 
Perhaps  some  heartless  civilized  squaw  has  sold  you 
a  shirt  sewed  with  thread.  It  is  bogus.  The  fringed 
shirt  with  sinew  thread  is  the  only  real  article. 

How  much  is  a  good  buckskin  shirt  worth?  Per- 
haps five  hundred  dollars.  My  favorite  is  a  Crow 
shirt  for  which  I  paid  eight  dollars  twenty  years  ago. 
In  museums  you  will  see  Black  foot  or  Cheyenne  war 
shirts  of  the  old  days  which  would  be  cheap  at  one  or 
two  or  three  hundred  dollars.  It  was  by  no  means 
the  case  in  aboriginal  life  that  all  garments  were 
worked  down  to  one  utilitarian  pattern.  There  were 
artists,  designers,  persons  of  style,  persons  of  quality. 
Perhaps  the  native  woman  who  made  one  of  these 
valuable  old  war  shirts  for  her  lord  and  master  would 
be  engaged  on  it  many  weeks.  The  strips  of  twisted 
ermine  had  to  be  made  and  let  in.  The  little  brass 
cylinders  and  pieces  of  shining  metal  had  to  be  affixed. 
Broad  bands  of  colored  porcupine  quills  must  be  exe- 
101 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

cuted  to  adorn  the  front,  where  was  to  lie  the  phy- 
lactery of  eagle  bones,  or  the  like.  Perhaps  you  may 
read  about  how  to  tan  buckskin,  or  how  to  make  a 
buckskin  shirt;  but  the  white  tailor  does  not  live  who 
could  take  two  thousand  dollars  and  make  one  of 
these  old  war  shirts  to  save  his  life  or  his  honor. 
So,  you  see,  buckskin  may  have  considerable  history 
and  considerable  romance  hidden  in  its  smoky  folds. 
If  you  can  get  a  genuine  Indian-tanned  and  Indian- 
made  buckskin  shirt  today,  made  on  honor  by  an 
artist,  do  not  begrudge  your  twenty  or  twenty-five 
dollars. 

An  old  plainsman  will  tell  you  the  warmest  way 
to  wear  your  buckskin  shirt  is  inside  of  your  trousers. 
The  Indian  did  not  wear  his  so,  because  he  had  no 
trousers,  only  leggings.  His  shirt  was  the  tunic 
proper,  and  this  is  the  type  of  all  the  plains  and  the 
Rockies.  In  the  extreme  northern  country  among  the 
Chippewyans  or  Loucheux,  the  coat  shirt  seems  to  be 
more  popular,  a  garment  open  all  the  way  down  the 
front.  This  type  prevails  in  the  Yukon  country  also 
today.  I  cannot  say  whether  or  not  it  was  the  ancient 
fashion  of  the  garment  in  those  latitudes. 

There  was  no  native  product  of  more  barbaric  and 
interesting  splendor  than  the  old-time  war  shirt  of  the 
buffalo  tribes  of  the  West.  Today  their  glory  has  de- 
parted. They  wear  flannel  shirts  themselves,  and  if 
102 


IN  THE  JUNK  CLOSET 

they  sell  you  moccasins  they  are  made  of  beef  hide. 
The  moccasins  which  you  buy  in  eastern  Canada  on 
the  trail  as  moose — which  are  sold  in  most  of  our 
sporting-goods  stores  as  moose — are  in  nine  cases  out 
of  ten  made  of  beef  hide.  They  are  smoked,  and 
look  Indian,  but  they  are  spurious.  They  do  not  rub 
soft  after  wetting.  A  piece  of  genuine  buckskin, 
whether  in  shirt  or  moccasin,  will  wet  through  like 
paper,  stretch  like  rubber  when  wet,  shrink  like  flint 
when  left  to  dry,  and  yet  rub  soft  as  a  glove  if  you 
take  care  of  it  when  it  is  drying.  My  own  favorite 
buckskin  shirt  has  been  drenched  in  many  a  snow- 
storm, but  it  is  as  soft  today  as  ever. 

The  best  buckskin  shirt  for  a  white  man  has  no 
ornamentation  whatever  beyond  the  fringed  seam.  As 
to  museum  value,  beads  come  first  and  then  the  more 
modern  silk  embroidery  of  the  mission  girls.  You  can 
see  this  at  all  the  northern  fur  posts  clear  to  the 
Arctic  Ocean.  The  bead  work  on  the  Yukon  side  of 
the  Rockies  is  more  profuse  and  rather  handsomer 
than  that  on  the  Mackenzie  side.  Considered  as  a 
work  of  art  and  beauty,  however,  the  finest  buckskin 
shirts  obtainable  today  come  from  Fort  Nelson,  on 
the  Liard  River. 

These  artistic  garments — and  they  are  indeed  things 
of  beauty,  not  merely  examples  of  barbaric  ingenuity' — 
are  made  coat  or  jacket  shaped,  edged  with  fur  down 
103 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

the  front  and  at  the  wrists,  and  with  one  or  two 
bands  of  fur,  usually  beaver,  around  the  wrist  or 
arm.  Across  the  shoulder  yoke,  and  down  the  edges 
of  the  front,  and  around  the  wrists  are  broad  bands 
of  the  stained  porcupine  quills.  This  is  the  most 
expensive  of  all  the  Indian  ornamentation,  and  the 
most  beautiful  as  well.  There  are  a  few  women  at 
Fort  Nelson  who  can  do  this  quill  work  handsomely. 
There  was  one  family  at  Fort  Wrigley  on  the  Mac- 
kenzie, I  think  related  to  the  Fort  Nelson  workers, 
who  also  could  do  it  beautifully.  For,  we  must  see, 
this  is  the  work  of  artists,  not  many  in  number.  I 
have  seen  such  shirts  sell  at  thirty-five  to  fifty  dollars. 
The  women  who  made  them  would  not  get  five  cents 
an  hour  for  the  time  they  put  on  them.  They  are 
beautiful  garments,  but  rather  too  fine  and  good  for 
human  nature's  daily  use  on  the  trail.  They  are  to  put 
on  when  the  priest  comes,  or  when  there  is  a  grand 
baptizing,  or  when  one  is  a-courting.  The  post  trader 
may  have  one,  but  he  will  not  be  apt  to  wear  it  very 
often.  This  porcupine  quill  work  was  used  by  some 
of  the  plains  tribes,  but  they  did  it  coarsely  as  com- 
pared with  the  Liard  product.  Apparently  only  the 
small,  fine  quills  are  used.  The  best  dyes  are  the 
native  vegetable  ones. 

All  this  fancy  work,  however,  is  part  of  such  history 
of  the  savage  races  as  now  has  to  do  with  contact 
104 


IN  THE  JUNK  CLOSET 

of  white  and  red  life.  Perhaps  in  your  junk  closet 
you  have  more  than  one  buckskin  shirt.  The  older 
they  are  the  better.  And  it  is  your  oldest  one,  the 
one  with  little  ornamentation,  the  actual  hunting  tunic 
made  perhaps  twenty  or  thirty  years  ago — the  one 
with  the  imperishably  fragrant  smell  of  the  smoke 
still  lingering  in  it — over  which  you  hesitate  as  you 
hang  it  up  once  more  in  the  junk  closet.  If  you  are 
a  very  sloppy  man — and  a  lot  of  us  are  sloppier  than 
we  let  on — perhaps  you  linger  over  it  just  a  moment 
or  so  and  look  at  it  thoughtfully.  Like  many  an- 
other thing  connected  with  the  life  of  the  open,  it 
was  a  product  of  evolution,  the  work  of  an  artist. 
It  has  thought  in  it  and  history  and  romance  and 
suggestion  and  education  too.  In  short,  of  the  entire 
household  this  is  the  one  apartment,  room  or  recep- 
tacle where  precisely  such  things  may  be  found. 


V 
THE  WOMAN  IN  CAMP 


V 
THE  WOMAN  IN  CAMP 

THIS  chapter,  if  you  please,  will  be  all  for  the 
ladies,  God  bless  them! 
Some  women  like  camp  life  and  some  do 
not.  Perhaps  more  would  like  it  if  more  knew  about 
it.  Those  who  neither  like  it  nor  know  about  it  are 
the  ones  who  themselves  are  not  liked  in  camp  and 
who  rarely  have  the  second  chance  to  break  up  the 
happiness  of  a  camping  party.  It  is  an  old  story  that 
in  the  woods  all  the  bad  qualities  of  a  man  or  woman 
come  to  the  surface,  and  that  petulance  and  readiness 
to  criticize  are  there  found  in  persons  who  show  no 
such  disposition  in  conventional  surroundings.  It  is 
a  proverb  also  of  the  woods  that  it  is  not  the  old-timer 
but  the  beginner  who  finds  fault  in  camp. 

Truth  forces  one  to  state  that  women  do  sometimes 
render  themselves  unpleasant  in  camp.  Sometimes 
it  is  because  they  carry  into  the  woods  that  insistence 
on  recognition  of  the  privileges  of  sex  which  some- 
times marks  the  American  woman.  No  good  woman 
ever  needs  or  ever  does  unsex  herself  in  business  or 
109 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

in  the  camp,  but  in  camp  she  should  lay  aside  as 
much  as  possible  her  accustomed  prerogatives,  and 
do  what  she  can  to  be  a  "thoroughbred,"  as  men  call 
it.  The  most  truly  thoroughbred  qualities,  in  camp  or 
anywhere  else,  are  those  of  simplicity  and  sincerity 
and  a  readiness  to  be  of  use  to  others. 

Some  women  do  not  like  to  "mess  around  in  camp," 
as  they  call  it.  They  are  dainty  of  habit,  ease-loving, 
city-bred,  so  that  they  do  not  care  for  the  open.  Yet 
even  such  women  have  learned  in  time  the  charm 
of  the  woods,  opening  as  it  did  for  them  a  world 
whose  pleasures  they  had  not  suspected.  Yet  others 
have  taken  to  camping  out  for  utilitarian  reasons. 
After  all  is  said,  a  great  part  of  a  woman's  capital 
is  her  beauty,  and  there  is  no  actual  beauty  except 
that  of  health  and  physical  fitness.  No  means  has 
yet  been  discovered  so  good  as  life  in  the  open  air 
to  bring  good  digestion,  good  circulation,  good  lines 
and  good  looks  to  the  average  woman. 

It  is  urged  by  some  women  that  camp  life  is  not 
feminine,  that  it  is  not  healthful,  that  it  is  not  com- 
fortable. If  these  three  objections  were  removed, 
many  women  would  see  portions  of  the  world  remote 
from  the  conventional  routes  of  travel.  Let  us  see 
whether  any  of  these  objections  can  be  obviated  by 
a  little  reasoning. 

We  are  beginning  to  use  a  great  many  sleeping- 
no 


THE  WOMAN  IN  CAMP 

porches,  are  we  not?  Doctors  tell  us  to  leave  our 
babies  out  all  night  in  the  open  air.  Apartment  builders 
nowadays  put  on  sun  parlors  and  sleeping-porches 
for  adults  also.  Why?  Is  a  sleeping-porch  in  the 
city  more  healthful  than  a  tent  in  the  woods? 

As  to  the  dread  of  exposure  in  camp  life,  it  seems 
to  take  care  of  itself.  In  camp  one  may  be  wet  all 
day  and  have  no  room  in  which  to  change  one's  cloth- 
ing, yet  rarely  take  cold  from  the  experience.  It  is 
in  the  city  that  one  takes  cold.  It  is  when  we  come 
off  the  trail  and  change  into  street  clothes,  abandoning 
the  warm  camp  clothing,  that  we  take  cold. 

With  equally  good  food,  equally  well  prepared,  and 
with  proper  clothing,  a  woman  will  have  better  health 
in  camp  than  at  home.  To  be  sure,  this  means  some 
experience  on  her  part  or  that  of  those  who  are  her 
companions.  It  is  to  be  supposed  that  she  goes  out 
only  with  guides  or  men  who  know  how  to  build  a 
campfire,  pitch  a  tent,  take  care  of  themselves  in  camp 
or  on  the  trail,  handle  horses  or  boats,  and  use  all  local 
means  towards  making  camp  a  comfortable  place.  A 
woman  need  not  engage  in  all  the  camp  work,  perhaps 
need  only  care  for  her  own  personal  comfort,  but  no 
woman  in  camp  ought  to  allow  herself  to  be  regarded 
as  a  burden. 

Neither  need  any  woman  in  camp  seek  to  change 
her  natural  disposition.  Some  women  like  to  shoot 
in 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

big  game.  I  myself  never  cared  to  encourage  that. 
Many  others  have  done  so.  One  woman,  very  well 
known,  has  killed  lions  and  elephants  in  Africa  with 
her  own  rifle.  There  are  many  American  women 
who  have  gone  with  their  husbands,  and  who  have 
killed  big  game  in  the  Rockies  and  in  Alaska.  One 
woman  last  summer  crossed  the  most  northerly  pass 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  but  a  hundred  miles  south 
of  the  Arctic  Ocean,  with  her  husband  and  his  cargo 
of  furs.  There  is  no  worse  mosquito  country  in  the 
world  than  that,  yet  she  came  through  without  a  com- 
plaint, and  never  asked  any  odds  in  the  day's  work. 
At  the  end  of  the  trip  she  was  in  perfect  health.  Of 
course,  she  and  her  husband  might  almost  be  called 
professional  campers. 

Even  an  amateur  woman  camper  may  be  as  com- 
fortable in  camp  as  at  home,  if  she  knows  "how.  She 
will  find  camp  discomforts  arise  mostly  from  bad  beds, 
bad  footwear  and  bad  clothing,  so  far  as  she  per- 
sonally is  concerned.  As  to  bad  cookery,  she  very 
often  can  remedy  that  in  part  herself.  Of  course, 
I  speak  now  of  simple  camp  life,  where  there  are  no 
guides  and  servants  to  do  all  the  work — the  real  camp 
in  the  wild  country,  not  the  cottage  with  the  telephone 
and  all  the  other  discomforts  of  home. 

First  of  all,  the  camp  bed  should  be  a  good  one. 
Professional  outdoor  men,  such  as  engineers,  sur- 
112 


THE  WOMAN  IN  CAMP 

veyors,  naturalists,  and  expert  travelers  in  the  wilder- 
ness always  have  as  good  a  bed  as  possible.  It  is  only 
the  novice  who  boasts  of  sleeping  rough.  Nearly  al- 
ways you  can  have  a  good  bed  in  camp,  so  that  you 
can  sleep  dry  and  warm,  and  be  thoroughly  rested 
every  night. 

You  read  much  about  beds  of  fragrant  pine  boughs, 
but  these  cannot  be  had  by  more  than  a  fraction  of 
the  women  who  go  camping  out.  One  must  learn 
to  make  a  bed  out  of  what  there  is  at  hand.  If  you 
have  plenty  of  transportation,  you  may  like  an  air 
mattress,  although  some  do  not  care  for  them.  You 
may  make  a  narrow  bed  tick  at  home,  and  when  in 
camp  simply  fill  it  with  what  you  can  get — pine 
boughs,  grass,  hay,  straw,  even  dried  leaves.  A  small 
pillow  which  you  can  take  along  with  you  from  home 
will  not  be  very  bulky,  when  squeezed  down  in  the 
bedroll. 

Cold  in  camp  comes  from  the  ground,  not  from  the 
air.  You  should  always  have  a  water-proof  sheet 
under  the  bed — a  rubber  blanket,  a  tarpaulin,  or  a 
canvas  floor  cloth.  Make  your  bed  on  top  of  this, 
and  if  the  ground  is  very  damp,  spread  the  water- 
proof on  top  of  plenty  of  boughs  or  hay. 

The  floor  cloth  or  tarpaulin  will  serve  to  keep  your 
blankets  dry  when  they  are  rolled  up  and  in  transit. 
This  canvas  should  either  be  separate,  or  else  large 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

enough  to  go  both  under  you  and  over  you,  like  the 
cowpuncher's  "tarpie."  Some  like  sleeping-bags,  al- 
though I  do  not,  and  prefer  a  blanket  bed  which  can 
be  opened  and  aired  out  daily.  The  blankets  should 
always  be  kept  clean  in  their  canvas  and  covered  up 
so  that  they  cannot  be  walked  on  in  the  daytime.  The 
best  blankets  are  none  too  good  in  camp.  Do  not  let 
them  cut  down  your  bed  to  a  weight  much  below 
twenty  pounds,  including  the  tarpaulin.  If  you  have 
one  of  the  down  quilts  which  hunters  sometimes  use 
on  account  of  their  lightness,  your  bed  can  run  as  low 
as  fifteen  pounds  in  weight.  But  by  all  means  see 
that  it  is  a  good  one,  that  it  is  dry  and  warm,  and 
soft  enough  so  that  you  can  sleep  in  comfort.  Of 
course,  I  am  supposing  that  you  are  sleeping  in  a  good 
tent  well  pitched,  and  that,  if  the  door  cannot  be  left 
open,  there  are  plenty  of  windows  in  the  tent  for  ven- 
tilation. 

Of  course,  a  woman  can  sleep  without  a  tent  on 
the  ground  just  like  a  man,  with  the  canvas  cover 
under  and  over  her  blankets  to  keep  off  the  wind  and 
dew,  or  even  rain.  This  is  not,  however,  a  desirable 
way  of  living  except  in  times  of  emergency.  Let  me 
therefore  repeat  for  women  some  of  the  simple  and 
fundamental  suggestions  already  offered  for  men. 

To  my  mind,  insect  pests  are  more  to  be  dreaded 
in  camp  than  almost  anything  else.  There  are  ways, 
114 


THE  WOMAN  IN  CAMP 

however,  of  guarding  against  mosquitoes  and  flies. 
In  the  daytime  you  can  wear  a  head  net  and  gauntlet 
gloves.  Be  sure  to  have  the  head  net  of  black  bob- 
binet.  You  cannot  see  through  white  or  green  mos- 
quito bar.  Your  gauntlets  should  be  of  soft  cloth,  to 
fasten  above  the  wrists  with  rubber  cords.  The  wide 
gauntlet  of  the  leather  glove  will  sometimes  let  in 
mosquitoes.  You  may  try  all  kinds  of  mosquito  dope. 
Almost  any  good  one  will  drive  away  mosquitoes  for 
a  little  time,  but  not  for  long.  Moreover,  the  head 
net  does  not  remove  the  buzz,  even  if  it  prevents  the 
bite  of  the  mosquito.  You  will  have  to  get  used  to 
dope  and  gloves  and  head  nets,  however,  in  some 
localities  and  at  some  seasons  in  camp.  In  the  early 
spring  and  in  the  fall  you  will  not  be  bothered. 

It  is  at  night  that  one  suffers  most  from  mosqui- 
toes if  one  does  not  know  how  to  keep  them  out.  It 
is  perfectly  simple  to  do  this  if  you  have  the  right  sort 
of  tent.  The  best  tent  has  a  floor  sewed  to  the  bottom 
of  it,  so  that  no  insect  can  crawl  in  under  the  edges. 
In  this  case  it  ought  to  have  plenty  of  windows, 
covered  with  bobbinet,  to  permit  ventilation.  It  may 
have  either  a  full,  loose  net  across  the  front,  or  a 
complete  inner  tent  of  netting,  to  drop  down  all 
around.  Another  very  good  way  is  to  have  an  in- 
dividual mosquito  bar  made  about  six  feet  long  and 
three  feet  wide,  with  canvas  top,  with  four-foot  walls 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

of  bobbinet.  You  can  put  this  up  inside  the  tent  or 
outside,  and  drop  it  around  your  bed,  tucking  the 
edges  in  under  the  blankets.  It  is  a  sure  shot  against 
mosquitoes.  So  also  is  the  mosquito  tent  used  by 
Alaskan  hunters.  It  has  the  floor  and  both  ends 
sewed  in,  with  only  a  round  hole  in  front,  through 
which  you  crawl,  passing  through  a  sort  of  sleeve, 
which  is  shut  with  a  drawstring  after  you  are  inside. 
Of  course,  after  you  get  in  under  your  mosquito  bar, 
whichever  form  it  has,  you  will  have  to  kill  the  mos- 
quitoes which  came  in  with  you.  After  that  you  will 
not  have  any  more  trouble.  In  fact,  getting  rid  of 
the  mosquito  nuisance  is  much  like  other  discomforts 
in  camp — it  is  not  difficult  when  you  know  how. 

Another  thing  which  brings  discomfort  to  women 
in  camp  is  unsuitable  clothing.  Men  wear  heavy 
woolen  clothing,  flannel  shirts,  two  pairs  of  woolen 
stockings,  and  easy  boots  when  they  camp  out.  Women 
don't  like  to  make  their  feet  look  big,  and  sometimes 
are  afraid  their  costumes  are  not  going  to  be  becom- 
ing. Now  there  is  just  one  answer  to  the  question 
of  proper  camp  clothing,  and  that  is  wool  and  plenty 
of  it.  Few  women  wear  heavy  enough  stockings  in 
camp,  for  instance.  Therefore  they  find  themselves 
bitten  by  mosquitoes,  or  they  suffer  from  cold  feet. 
Good  stockings  and  a  sweater  are  essentials. 

Good  shoes  also  are  necessary  for  the  woman  in 
116 


THE  WOMAN  IN  CAMP 

camp.  Here  is  where  a  woman  does  not  always  get 
a  fair  chance.  Her  husband  will  buy  himself  all 
kinds  of  good  hunting  boots,  and  perhaps  let  his  wife 
content  herself  just  with  a  pair  of  her  old  street  shoes, 
which  are  light  and  perhaps  leaky,  and  which  cer- 
tainly are  not  going  to  be  large  enough  to  allow  an 
extra  pair  of  heavy  wool  stockings.  The  expert 
woman  camper  looks  out  for  her  feet  before  leaving 
home.  She  does  not  necessarily  cumber  herself  with 
heavy,  high  boots  of  water-proof  leather;  but  there 
are  many  light  boots  made  for  women's  wear,  some 
with  soft  soles  and  no  heels  and  wide  laces.  It  is 
just  as  well  to  look  at  some  of  these  things  for  your- 
self before  you  start  into  camp.  Be  sure  to  get  your 
boots  large  enough,  and  then  fill  them  up  with  stock- 
ings. 

A  pair  of  ordinary  shoes  with  ordinary  rubbers 
are  useful  to  have  in  camp  in  damp  weather.  You 
should  never  stand  around  in  camp  with  wet  or  damp 
or  cold  feet  after  you  have  finished  your  day's  work. 
If  you  have  nothing  better,  use  the  rubber-soled  tennis 
shoes.  The  best  way,  as  soon  as  you  know  you  can 
keep  your  feet  dry,  in  the  evening,  is  to  take  off 
the  shoes  you  have  been  wearing  and  put  on  a  pair  of 
moccasins.  The  best,  if  you  can  get  them,  are  those 
made  of  genuine  moose  leather  by  Indian  women,  but 
you  cannot  often  get  these  in  the  trade,  no  matter 
117 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

what  they  call  them  in  the  catalog.  Have  your  hus- 
band bring  you  a  pair  or  so  the  next  time  he  goes 
into  the  real  wilderness  country.  A  pair  of  soft 
moccasins  is  next  to  the  sweater  in  camp.  Put  them 
on  over  a  pair  of  dry  stockings  at  night,  and  all  at  once 
you  cease  to  be  tired,  but  are  warm  and  comfortable. 
Then  you  can  sit  by  the  fire  for  a  while  and  be  per- 
fectly happy. 

Some  women  cannot  walk  well  in  moccasins  at  first, 
but  when  you  are  used  to  them,  moccasins  are  very 
comfortable  even  on  the  trail.  A  piece  of  belt  leather, 
from  an  old  mill  belt,  makes  a  fine  sole  for  a  moccasin. 
No  city  woman  ought  to  try  to  walk  in  an  unsoled 
moccasin  in  any  country  where  there  is  gravel  or  sharp 
roots  or  snags. 

Women  do  not  dress  as  heavily  as  men,  even  in 
camp,  but  they  should  be  careful  to  go  provided  with 
abundance  of  warm  clothing.  If  the  weather  is  to  be 
cold  at  all,  take  besides  your  sweater,  a  mackinaw  coat 
such  as  men  wear — there  is  no  better  garment  for 
the  woods,  and  you  can  get  it  in  rather  becoming 
shapes  and  colors,  if  you  like.  You  can  find  flannel 
or  khaki  shirt-waists  or  jackets  if  you  like,  or  you 
can  take  your  own.  You  can  get  along  with  one  skirt, 
if  you  have  to.  It  may  be  of  denim,  khaki  or  bed- 
ford  cord.  Wool  collects  burrs.  Do  not  use  corduroy, 
for  it  is  very  heavy  when  wet  and  is  very  slow  to  dry. 
118 


THE  WOMAN  IN  CAMP 

In  making  ready  for  the  camp,  talk  with  sensible 
men  who  know  about  camping.  Then  use  your  own 
judgment,  and  do  not  let  a  sporting-goods  clerk  do 
your  outfitting  for  you.  You  will  not  really  need 
very  much  extra  clothing  or  outfit.  Usually  your  own 
old  clothes  will  prove  serviceable  in  camp.  Much  de- 
pends upon  the  nature  of  the  trip  which  you  are  under- 
taking. Adjust  your  clothing  to  the  time  and  place 
where  it  is  to  be  used.  Avoid  freakishness  or  coquetry 
in  camp  dress.  Be  simple  and  sincere  and  useful,  and 
do  not  spend  too  much  time  in  wondering  how  you 
look.  Spend  some  of  that  time  in  watching  how  the 
stew  is  coming  on,  or  how  the  bean-pot  is  progressing. 

You  cannot  take  trunks  or  valises  into  camp,  but 
you  will  find  that  a  packbag  is  a  very  useful  and  con- 
venient vehicle  for  all  sorts  of  articles.  A  good  plan 
is  to  get  an  old  one  of  your  husband's,  and  sew  it  full 
of  pockets,  inside  and  out.  Then  distribute  your  little 
belongings,  combs  and  brushes,  mirror  and  other  toilet 
articles,  in  one  pocket,  your  night  robe  in  another, 
your  handkerchiefs  in  another,  and  your  extra  stock- 
ings, etc.,  in  still  another.  Have  everything  where 
you  can  find  it  in  the  dark,  if  need  be,  and  keep  each 
article  in  the  place  appointed  for  it.  When  you  get 
in  camp,  you  can  hang  up  in  the  tent  a  little  "house- 
wife" of  your  own  make — or  you  can  buy  one  already 
made.  You  can  also  buy  a  little  case  of  simple  medi- 
119 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

cines,  if  you  like,  although  you  probably  will  not  need 
them,  beyond  one  or  two  simples.  You  can  even  buy 
for  fifty  cents  a  little  ready-made  case  containing 
scissors,  needle,  thread,  buttons,  safety-pins  and  the 
like.  It  will  be  very  useful  in  camp,  and  as  it  costs 
so  little,  it  may  be  as  well  to  purchase  one  as  to  take 
the  articles  from  your  own  work-table  at  home. 

Sunburn  is  one  of  the  discomforts  of  camp  for  a 
woman  in  the  summertime.  For  herself  or  her  chil- 
dren an  excellent  and  prompt  remedy  will  be  found 
in  carron  oil,  which  is  only  linseed  oil  and  lime-water. 
It  takes  the  sting  out  almost  at  once.  There  are  cer- 
tain creams,  in  tubes,  which  you  can  find  offered  in 
the  sporting-goods  stores,  and  one  or  two  of  these 
are  good  for  sunburn,  or  chapped  hands.  Always  pro- 
tect your  hands  in  camp  by  gloves,  especially  when 
cooking.  Otherwise  it  will  be  very  difficult  for  you 
to  keep  them  sightly. 

If  you  are  going  far  out  into  the  mountains  away 
from  all  settlements,  have  your  teeth  well  cared  for 
before  you  start.  Do  not  take  any  chances  with  tooth- 
ache in  camp.  In  all  trips  into  far-off  countries  men 
take  a  pair  of  forceps  in  their  camp  chest.  The  best 
way  is  not  to  have  any  need  for  the  forceps  in  camp. 

As  to  food,  that  depends  entirely  upon  the  locality 
where  you  are  going.  Probably  you  will  have  game 
and  fish  in  camp.  You  will  have  flour  just  as  you 
120 


THE  WOMAN  IN  CAMP 

do  at  home.  Whole-wheat  flour  is  better  than  white. 
A  little  corn-meal  is  good  to  have  along  also.  You 
may  have  to  mix  the  bread  in  the  dish-pan  or  on  a 
piece  of  oilcloth,  or  even  in  the  top  of  the  flour-sack. 
If  you  have  a  camp  oven  you  can  cook  quite  good 
biscuits  or  loaf  bread.  The  usual  camp  bread  is  the 
bannock  baked  in  the  frying-pan  before  the  fire — an 
art  not  learned  the  first  time  you  try  it. 

Men  do  not  like  to  experiment  with  too  many  bright 
ideas  in  camp,  so  don't  be  fussy  about  your  cooking, 
but  learn  to  use  the  accepted  methods.  Learn  to  cook 
bread  in  a  frying-pan,  and  to  bake  all  sorts  of  things 
in  the  Dutch  oven.  But,  for  your  own  satisfaction, 
have  along  one  of  the  folding  camp  reflector  ovens, 
and  have  also  a  good  broiler.  You  will  very  soon 
learn  how  to  use  these  things  around  the  campfire, 
and  learn  to  hang  a  kettle  or  pot  over  the  fire  in  such 
way  that  it  will  not  fall  down. 

Broil  your  fish  and  game  whenever  you  can,  but 
remember  that  takes  a  little  time  when  you  are  in  a 
hurry.  The  stew-pot,  or  pot  an  feu,  is  an  excellent 
thing  in  camp.  Even  when  you  are  traveling,  you  can 
take  along  the  stew-pot,  not  quite  exhausted  at  the 
last  meal.  Put  in  game,  vegetables,  rice,  potatoes, 
whatever  you  have,  and  add  a  little  water  as  it  boils 
down — it  will  always  taste  good  in  camp.  If  you  wish 
to  walk  into  the  heart  of  all  the  men  about  the  camp, 

121 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

don't  put  on  fresh  ribbons  but  make  a  fresh  camp 
dish  once  in  a  while.  Some  men  cook  well  in  camp, 
but  usually  their  menu  is  limited,  and  a  woman  can 
beat  them  at  that  game.  There  is  a  very  keen  delight 
in  camp  cookery  for  the  woman  who  has  once  learned 
how.  The  great  secret  of  comfort  in  such  cooking  is 
not  to  have  too  big  a  fire.  A  blazing  campfire  is  the 
commonest  fault  of  the  woman  tenderfoot  as  well  as 
the  man  tenderfoot.  Let  the  fire  blaze  after  you  have 
finished  cooking. 

If  you  can  make  good  batter  cakes  in  camp,  you 
are  sure  of  a  second  invitation,  for  few  men  can  do 
that.  Have  along  a  little  syrup  in  a  tight  can.  Butter 
can  be  bought  now  in  round  boxes,  of  two  pounds 
each.  It  is  shipped  in  this  way  all  over  the  world  and 
can  be  taken  into  camp  quite  fresh.  You  need  not 
take  fancy  groceries  into  camp,  such  as  olives,  pre- 
serves, etc.  Probably  you  will  want  condensed  milk 
or  cream.  You  must  have  the  staples  such  as  beans 
and  flour  and  bacon.  Get  the  best  bacon  you  can  for 
breakfast,  but  have  along  some,  perhaps  a  cheaper 
brand,  which  will  render  grease  enough,  for  grease 
is  useful  in  the  camp  cooking.  Don't  throw  the  grease 
away  if  it  is  clean,  but  save  it  in  a  little  tin  in  a  cool 
place.  Camp  near  a  spring  whenever  you  can,  and 
camp  where  there  is  good  ventilation,  not  in  low 
ground  too  close  to  your  spring. 
122 


THE  WOMAN  IN  CAMP 

Probably  the  men  will  think  they  know  more  about 
fixing  up  the  campfire  and  the  camp  than  you  do. 
Study  the  business  of  camping  for  a  time,  but  always 
keep  your  eyes  open  for  little  wrinkles  adding  to  your 
own  comfort.  See  that  your  own  bed  is  made  as  you 
want  it,  and  that  your  mosquito  bar  is  going  to  be 
practical,  and  that  your  personal  belongings  are  left 
where  you  can  get  at  them.  Always  look  after  your 
own  bedroll  and  packbag  when  you  are  moving  camp. 
If  the  campmaster  does  not  know  enough  to  district 
certain  duties  to  each  individual,  then  quietly  secure 
that  desideratum  on  your  own  motion.  A  good  sys- 
tem in  camp  keeps  everything  moving  swiftly  and 
smoothly,  so  that  there  is  plenty  of  time  left  for  the 
enjoyment  of  the  day,  whatever  that  may  be — walk- 
ing, fishing,  riding,  reading,  sewing,  loafing  or  sleep- 
ing. Sleep  all  you  can  in  camp.  It  is  the  most  health- 
ful thing  you  can  do.  When  you  are  not  sleeping, 
keep  in  the  sunshine,  for  that  also  is  healthy.  Don't 
fret  and  don't  worry,  but  just  let  go  and  rest. 

There  is  something  indescribably  fascinating  about 
a  well  arranged  camp  at  night  when  the  fire  is  blazing 
and  the  members  of  the  party  have  gathered  about  it 
to  tell  the  stories  of  the  day.  Honeymoons  have  been 
spent  in  camp.  In  camp  with  your  husband  or  brother 
you  may  find  quite  a  different  man  from  the  hurried 
and  worried  individual  you  knew  in  the  city.  One 
123 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

thing  is  sure,  it  is  possible  for  a  woman  to  be  perfectly 
comfortable  in  camp,  and  perfectly  happy  as  well,  pro- 
vided that  she  has  the  proper  company  and  the  proper 
knowledge  of  the  life. 

I  have  spoken  thus  far  rather  of  the  actual  and 
business-like  camp  such  as  men  like  to  make  on  hunt- 
ing and  fishing  trips.  There  are  plenty  of  other  sorts 
of  camping  somewhat  less  strenuous.  In  a  canoe 
camp,  close  to  civilization,  I  have  seen  a  dozen  lively 
girls  making  merry  around  a  common  campfire  night 
after  night.  This  was  in  a  permanent  sort  of  camp, 
with  many  city  conveniences.  Even  in  such  a  camp, 
however,  a  proper  knowledge  about  clothing,  outfit, 
cooking,  etc.,  is  of  use  to  a  woman;  and  a  wise  thing 
in  camp  to  remember  is  that  although  the  conventions 
have  been  left  behind  the  proprieties  have  not  been. 

If  I  had  to  give  only  one  word  of  advice  to  the 
woman  going  into  camp,  I  would  say,  "Smile."  That 
is  not  a  bad  word  anywhere,  but  it  is  best  in  camp, 
where  so  many  things  may  be  annoying.  It  is  not 
anyone's  fault  if  it  rains  or  if  things  go  wrong. 
Smile  at  it. 

This  is  a  very  nervous  day  and  age.  Surely  women 
as  well  as  men  may  be  overstrung,  anxious,  worried. 
It  is  worry  which  is  today  wrecking  so  many  nervous 
systems  and  making  city  life  often  so  wretched.  Some- 
times a  couple  of  weeks  'in  the  woods  may  give  a 
124 


THE  WOMAN  IN  CAMP 

tired  or  worried  woman  a  new  viewpoint  for  life. 
Mere  freedom  from  noise  may  mean  very  much  to 
some  women.  For  the  woman  of  broken-down  nerves 
the  doctor  will  prescribe  complete  rest  and  silence. 
You  do  not  know  that  you  hear  the  noises  of  the  city, 
but  they  are  there  all  the  time.  Sometimes  when 
you  get  to  camp  you  will  want  to  sleep  almost  all  the 
time  for  two  or  three  days.  That  shows  how  tired 
you  were,  although  you  did  not  know  it 

Try  the  camp  cure.  There  is  no  better  way  to  build 
up  your  efficiency.  What  is  more,  there  is  no  better 
way  of  having  a  good  time,  when  you  know  how.  The 
best  way  to  learn  how  is  to  try  it  simply  and  sincerely, 
not  wholly  intent  on  having  all  the  good  times  your- 
self, but  trying  to  be  a  thoroughbred,  as  very  probably 
the  leader  of  your  camping  party  would  call  it.  A 
brief  experience  of  the  right  kind  of  camp  life,  the 
sort  that  is  carried  on  with  practical  good  sense,  will 
be  enough  to  show  you  that  a  woman  can  camp  out 
with  perfect  comfort  and  happiness,  and  with  the  best 
kind  of  results  for  herself. 


VI 
UNCLE  SAM'S  SHOES 


VI 

UNCLE  SAM'S  SHOES 

WHAT  is  the  best  walking-shoe  in  the  wide 
world?  You  can  read  fifty  attempted  an- 
swers to  that  question  in  the  show  win- 
dows of  sporting-goods  houses,  each  of  which  will 
carry  a  dozen  different  models  of  sportsman's  boots  of 
all  sorts  and  descriptions  as  to  height,  weight,  shape 
and  material.  Most  of  these  boots  will  run  much 
heavier  than  the  daily  footwear  of  the  average  city 
man.  They  run  to  wide  soles,  heavy  nails,  high  tops, 
bellows  tongues,  coarse  laces,  heavy  leather.  In  short, 
if  the  ingenuity  of  our  ablest  inventors  were  put  to 
work  it  could  not  devise  any  sort  of  footwear  more  un- 
suitable for  the  actual  walking  purposes  of  the  average 
man  than  is  the  average  sportsman's  boot,  so  called. 
It  has  always  seemed  a  curious  thing  to  me  that  our 
shrewd  commercial  men  never  have  discovered  this 
fact  and  taken  a  departure  into  a  more  rational  sort 
of  footwear  for  sportsmen. 

Uncle  Sam  has  realized  the  importance  of  good, 
rational  shoes  for  walking  men.    So  much  has  he  done 
129 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

so,  that  he  has  established  an  army  shoe  board,  com- 
posed of  experts,  whose  purpose  it  has  been  to  produce 
the  best  infantry  shoe  in  the  whole  wide  world.  A 
look  at  this  shoe  itself,  or  at  the  published  handbook 
of  the  board — done  by  Major  E.  L.  Munson — will 
quickly  convince  you  that  Uncle  Sam  did  not  go  to 
the  sporting-goods  stores  when  he  devised  his  infantry 
shoe.  Upon  the  contrary,  he  has  produced  a  shoe 
very  similar  to  that  outlined  from  time  to  time  in 
recommendations  by  this  and  a  very  few  other  writers 
who  have  insisted  that  the  best  walking-shoe  for  sports- 
men was  the  regular  street  shoe,  and  not  a  new  pair  of 
heavy  boots. 

All  military  men  know  that  a  walking  man  is  no 
better  than  his  feet.  The  records  of  some  wars  show 
that  at  times  as  many  as  thirty  thousand  men  have 
been  put  out  of  business  by  blistered  feet.  In  the 
average  army  twenty-five  per  cent,  of  the  walking 
troops  have  trouble  from  bad  feet,  much  of  which  is 
traceable  to  bad  boots.  The  average  private  soldier  is 
not  mentally  fit  to  buy  himself  a  pair  of  shoes.  This 
seems  a  singular  statement,  but  it  is  based  on  the  in- 
vestigations of  the  army  board  above  mentioned.  A 
battalion  of  infantry  was  selected  for  vivisection  pur- 
poses, each  man  being  allowed  to  pick  the  sort  of  shoes 
he  wanted.  They  were  marched  eight  miles  one  day 
and  eight  miles  back  the  next.  Thirty-eight  per  cent. 
130 


UNCLE  SAM'S  SHOES 

of  them  had  bad  feet.  Then  Uncle  Sam  got  into  the 
game  and  devised  a  shoe  of  his  own.  He  put  the  men 
of  eight  companies  of  infantry  through  nine  days' 
marching,  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  all  told,  and 
the  men  all  came  back  able  to  go  on.  Less  than  fifty 
per  cent,  showed  the  slightest  degree  of  foot  trouble, 
and  none  were  incapacitated,  although  the  march  was 
made  under  full  equipment,  about  seventy  pounds  in  all. 

From  these  facts  it  is  not  difficult  to  argue  that 
the  average  sportsman  is  no  more  fit  to  buy  shoes 
for  himself  than  is  the  average  soldier.  Whence  these 
words  of  wisdom,  all  of  which  are  based  upon  the 
report  of  Major  Munson,  and  not  upon  any  personal 
preference  or  experience.  It  is  believed  by  army  men 
that  Uncle  Sam  now  has  the  best  infantry  shoe  in  the 
world.  If  so,  why  might  not  sportsmen  or  outdoor 
men  take  a  hint  from  Uncle  Sam?  For  the  purpose  of 
extending  as  widely  as  possible  the  missionary  work 
of  comfortable  feet  it  may  be  advisable  to  mention 
some  of  the  specifications  which  Uncle  Sam  finds  to 
be  comfortable  in  his  walking-shoe. 

Perhaps  the  reader  may  remember  the  old  army 
shoe,  with  a  straight  sole  and  no  boxing  in  the  toe. 
That  shoe  has  been  in  the  discard  long  ago.  The 
model  today  has  a  soft  box  toe,  or  tip,  and  a  "wauken- 
phast"  or  curved  sole. 

As  to  the  material,  it  is  of  medium-weight  leather, 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

vegetable-tanned,  and  not  oil-tanned.  That  is  to  say, 
it  is  diametrically  opposed  to  the  heavy  grain  leather, 
oil-soaked  shoes,  which  were  native  to  Canada,  but 
which  are  manufactured  by  several  dealers  in  this 
country  for  sportsmen's  wear.  Oil  leather  sweats 
the  feet,  and  grain  leather  is  too  heavy  for  Uncle 
Sam.  Also,  extreme  weight  in  the  shoe  is  something 
not  tolerated.  It  is  an  easy  thing  to  figure  out  that 
the  weight  of  the  shoe  is  lifted  many  thousand  times 
every  day,  so  that  a  few  ounces  eventually  may  mean 
a  few  tons. 

A  walking  man  needs  shoe  enough  and  not  too 
much  shoe.  Obviously  Uncle  Sam  has  arrived  upon 
the  great  truth  that  the  best  boot  for  a  soldier  or  a 
sportsman  need  not  be,  and  ought  not  to  be,  water- 
proof. Major  Munson  specifically  states  that  the 
leather  should  be  porous  enough  to  allow  perspiration 
to  escape,  even  though  that  means  the  lack  of  water- 
proof quality.  If  from  continued  wetting  the  shoe 
seems  hard,  when  dried,  it  is  softened  with  neatsfoot 
oil,  or  just  with  water  applied  inside  and  out.  Uncle 
Sam  knows  another  great  truth — it  does  not  hurt  a 
man  to  have  his  feet  wet  when  walking.  It  is  better 
to  dampen  a  light  shoe  and  let  it  set  to  your  foot  than 
it  is  to  try  to  pack  around  a  heavy  raw-hide,  grain- 
leather,  oil-soaked  affair  which  never  by  any  means  in 
the  world  can  adjust  itself  to  the  shape  of  your  foot 
132 


UNCLE  SAM'S  SHOES 

The  heel  of  the  boot  is  broad  and  long  enough  to 
go  well  forward  under  the  ball  of  the  foot.  Inside 
the  counter  it  must  not  be  so  loose  as  to  allow  the 
foot  to  work  up  and  down.  The  sole  should  lie 
straight,  for  Uncle  Sam  has  discovered  another  inter- 
esting fact,  which  is  quite  opposite  to  the  notion  of 
the  swell  boot-maker.  The  latter  insists  that  in  these 
days  the  arch  of  everybody's  foot  is  breaking  down, 
so  he  needs  a  special  last  which  will  support  the  foot. 
Uncle  Sam,  upon  the  contrary,  does  not  support  the 
foot  under  the  instep,  but  lets  the  foot  do  its  own  sup- 
porting— which  is  the  only  comfortable  way  of  going 
shod.  There  is  no  worse  agony  than  trying  to  walk 
with  something  sticking  up  under  the  middle  of  your 
instep.  The  way  to  make  a  foot  natural  and  strong 
is  to  give  it  plenty  of  room  and  then  to  use  it.  If 
you  find  your  feet  are  carrying  too  much  weight,  diet 
a  little,  or  take  more  exercise — but  don't  try  to  cure 
them  by  sticking  arches  up  under  the  instep.  This  is 
what  Uncle  Sam  concludes. 

The  sole  of  the  army  shoe  is  not  any  thick,  double- 
sewed,  wide-edged  affair.  It  is  a  single  piece  of 
leather,  flexible,  but  tough.  It  is  cut  long  enough  and 
wide  enough — especially  across  the  ball  of  the  foot — 
to  give  a  foot  a  chance.  There  is  a  toe-cap  to  keep 
the  leather  from  the  toes,  and  in  it  there  is  plenty  of 
room  for  the  toes  to  lie  flat.  The  shoe  allows  the  great 
133 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

toe  to  He  out  perfectly  straight  and  easy — as  any  great 
toe  should  on  a  good  walking  foot.  The  shoes  should 
not  be  loose  and  shifting,  but  fair  and  snug  when 
laced. 

Yet  another  thing — the  tongue  which  Uncle  Sam 
puts  in  his  shoe.  Your  sportsman's  boot-maker  very 
probably  will  have  in  a  bellows  tongue  of  rather 
heavy  leather  running  clear  to  the  top  of  the  boot  to 
"water-proof"  it.  Uncle  Sam  makes  the  tongue  of 
his  model  shoe  of  rather  light  leather,  and  it  is  fast- 
ened only  at  the  lower  end.  This  shoe  can  be  taken 
off  and  put  on  readily,  adjusted  readily,  and  what  is 
just  as  important,  dried  out  readily.  It  is  of  no  con- 
sequence that  a  man  gets  his  feet  wet  when  he  is 
walking.  It  is  of  consequence,  however,  that  he 
should  be  able  to  dry  out  his  shoes  when  he  has 
stopped  walking. 

In  the  average  sportsman's  boot  you  will  find  coarse 
thongs  for  laces,  and  sometimes  hooks  to  expedite  the 
matter  of  lacing  up  the  boot.  Uncle  Sam  will  have 
nothing  of  this.  He  thinks  that  hooks  are  too  easily 
bent.  He  uses  rather  large  eyelets  and  broad,  flat 
shoe-laces,  not  made  of  coarse  thongs.  In  short,  he 
has  a  pretty  good  type  of  comfortable  street  shoe  for 
his  infantry  model.  It  need  hardly  be  said  that  he 
allows  no  seams  or  heavy  folds  of  leather  over  the 
tendons  of  the  ankle.  He  protects  the  back  of  the 
134 


UNCLE  SAM'S  SHOES 

ankle  and  the  front  of  the  foot  by  the  model  of  his 
shoe.  Encouraging  the  man — by  making  it  obligatory 
on  him — to  get  his  shoes  large  enough,  Uncle  Sam 
gives  him  footwear  which  can  be  adjusted  by  the 
wearer  himself  within  a  certain  working  latitude. 

Another  peculiarity  of  many  sporting  boots  is  their 
heavy  armor  of  hobnails.  There  have  not  been  lack- 
ing army  shoes  which  also  were  weighted  down  with 
hobnails.  The  German  marching  boot  of  old  type  was 
such  a  boot.  Perhaps  you  have  seen  pictures  of  the 
extra  shoes  French  infantrymen  carry  on  their  knap- 
sacks today.  They  also  have  soles  covered  with  heavy 
hobnails.  None  of  them  for  Uncle  Sam!  He  knows 
that  too  many  hobnails  make  the  shoe  cold  and  more- 
over uncomfortable  underfoot.  In  our  army  shoe 
there  are  a  reasonable  amount  of  small  hobnails,  of 
soft  iron,  never  of  steel.  The  true  function  of  the 
hobnail  is  not  to  protect  the  sole  of  a  shoe,  but  to 
give  it  a  good  footing  on  the  surface  over  which  the 
wearer  is  walking.  You  don't  need  a  perfect  mass 
of  nails  to  insure  that  desideratum. 

Uncle  Sam  knows  that  though  you  give  the  man  the 
best  shoe  in  the  world  he  can  not  keep  his  feet  in  good 
condition  without  a  little  care  of  the  feet  themselves. 
The  army  sock  fits  the  foot,  and  is  neither  too  large 
nor  too  small.  It  must  not  wrinkle,  and  it  must  never 
be  darned  or  mended — these  things  are  taboo.  A  pair 
135 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

of  socks  is  thought  good  for  about  seventy-five  miles. 
As  a  matter  of  fact  it  is  difficult  in  this  country  to  get 
real  wool  socks  for  out-of-door  work  at  any  price.  I 
remember  that  the  other  day  I  was  obliged  to  pay  a 
dollar  and  twenty-five  cents  for  half  hose  in  order 
to  be  sure  they  had  wool  in  them.  Nearly  all  the 
hosiery  sold  in  this  country  is  two-thirds  or  three- 
fourths  cotton.  What  is  sold  as  wool  rarely,  if  ever, 
is  fifty  per  cent.  wool.  As  Uncle  Sam's  private  soldier 
is  not  a  wealthy  man,  his  socks  usually  are  about  half 
wool  and  half  cotton;  but  they  must  fit  him  or  he  gets 
into  trouble  with  his  officers. 

His  officer  also  will  insist  after  a  march  that  the 
feet  be  washed  in  cold  water.  Perhaps  you  may  have 
thought  that  it  was  a  good  thing  to  put  salt  in  the 
water.  Uncle  Sam  does  not  think  so — he  will  not  even 
let  his  soldiers  grease  their  feet  with  pork-rind  unless 
the  salt  has  been  soaked  out  of  it.  He  has  invented  a 
powder  for  his  private  soldiers  to  use  for  their  tired 
feet — eighty-seven  parts  talcum,  ten  parts  starch,  and 
three  parts  salicylic  acid.  Pure  oil  can  be  used  on  the 
feet,  but  soap  is  to  be  avoided,  as  the  alkali  is  bad  for 
the  skin  of  the  foot  and  makes  it  blister  more  easily. 
Care  of  the  feet  daily  and  care  of  the  socks  also — 
which  must  be  washed  and  dried — are  a  part  of  the 
rational  policy  which  Uncle  Sam  lays  down  for  his 
walking  men. 

136 


UNCLE  SAM'S  SHOES 

When  a  private  soldier  wants  to  get  a  pair  of  shoes 
he  is  not  allowed  to  purchase  that  pair  which  may 
make  his  feet  look  prettiest.  Not  one,  but  both  of  his 
feet  are  carefully  measured,  and  the  length  of  the 
sole  must  be  at  least  two-thirds  of  an  inch  longer 
than  the  greatest  length  of  the  naked  foot  with  the 
weight  borne  on  it.  Uncle  Sam  knows  what  perhaps  a 
few  sportsmen  may  vaguely  have  discovered — the  foot 
stretches  both  in  length  and  in  breadth  after  a  day's 
march,  especially  under  any  heavy  weight.  Some  feet 
may  stretch  half  an  inch  in  length  in  a  day.  Uncle 
Sam  discovers  that  the  high-arched,  long  and  narrow 
foot  stretches  the  most;  the  short  and  well-knitted 
foot  the  least.  Hence  the  sensible  qualities  of  plenty 
of  length  and  width,  plenty  of  room  for  good  stock- 
ings, and  plenty  of  latitude  in  the  adjustment  of  shoes 
to  the  foot  at  different  times  of  the  day.  There  is 
no  man  who  ever  traveled  under  pack  who  will  not 
approve  of  all  these  conclusions  arrived  upon  by  Uncle 
Sam  in  his  story  of  footwear. 

The  army  board  does  not  go  in  much  for  oiling 
the  shoe  of  the  foot  soldier.  A  little  neat's-foot  oil 
used  to  soften  the  leather,  and  not  to  water-proof 
it,  is  about  the  limit.  The  soldier  is  encouraged  to 
stand  in  water  for  about  five  minutes  when  he  first 
puts  on  his  new  shoes,  and  then  to  start  off  on  a 
brisk  walk  of  some  miles  over  level  ground.  This 
137 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

sets  the  shoe  to  the  foot.  Once  set,  it  should  be 
kept  of  that  shape.  If  the  sergeant  find  a  rooky  put- 
ting his  wet  boots  under  his  head  for  a  pillow,  or 
letting  the  boxing  get  smashed  down  by  something 
during  the  night,  he  will  chide  the  novice  and  show 
him  that  his  shoes  should  be  left  all  the  time  foot- 
shape,  as  nearly  as  possible.  If  they  pinch  a  little 
when  put  on  in  the  morning,  wet  them,  and  then  start 
to  walking  in  them.  At  night  never  dry  the  shoes 
close  to  the  fire.  Many  a  sportsman  will  recall  a  pair 
of  wet  boots  ruined  in  this  way,  especially  if  he  soaked 
them  with  oil.  The  private  soldier  is  taught  to  take 
his  medicine  of  damp  feet  during  the  day,  and  then  to 
get  his  feet  warm  at  night  by  means  of  the  cold  bath 
and  the  rub  and  the  dry  pair  of  stockings.  The  sports- 
man may  take  lessons  from  the  soldier. . 

Uncle  Sam  has  discovered  something  else  which  a 
few  of  us  older  birds  in  the  outdoor  game  have  run 
across,  to  wit,  the  all-round  usefulness  of  the  little 
roll  of  "Z.  O."  or  zinc  oxid  adhesive  tape.  There  is 
not  any  other  one  thing  more  useful  in  the  kit  of  an 
outdoor  man.  Uncle  Sam  specifically  teaches  his  in- 
fantry men  how  to  use  this  in  case  of  a  blistered  foot. 
The  top  of  the  blister  is  never  removed,  but  is  flat- 
tened, after  the  liquid  has  been  pricked  out,  by  the 
application  of  the  adhesive  tape.  The  adhesive  tape  is 
warmed  a  little  bit,  and  then  slapped  down  over  the 
138 


UNCLE  SAM'S  SHOES 

blister.  This  takes  off  the  friction  of  the  boot.  I 
presume  many  sportsmen  have  relieved  a  chafed  heel 
by  sticking  on  a  postage  stamp  in  fault  of  anything 
better. 

If,  therefore,  you  desire  to  have  comfortable  feet 
when  you  are  walking  afield,  consider  the  ways  of 
Uncle  Sam  and  be  wise.  Get  your  shoes  big  enough 
for  plenty  of  socks,  and  get  them  light  enough  so 
that  you  can  carry  them.  Don't  lug  around  a  lot  of 
leather  which  is  of  no  possible  use  to  you.  Don't 
punish  your  feet  any  more  than  you  need  to — they 
will  get  theirs  before  the  day  is  over  if  you  are  a 
middle-aged  man  and  packing  twenty  pounds  of  use- 
less flesh,  as  well  as  as  much  more  of  gun  and  am- 
munition. It  makes  no  difference  how  wet  your  feet 
are  in  the  daytime,  if  they  are  dry  at  night.  But  if 
you  blister  your  feet  and  bruise  them  and  tire  them  all 
out  by  lugging  around  a  lot  of  cowhide  which  you 
don't  need,  and  if  you  scarcely  can  sleep  by  reason  of 
the  fatigue  in  the  muscles  of  your  legs  and  ankles, 
then  blame  yourself,  and  not  Uncle  Sam  nor  the  writer 
of  these  words  of  wisdom  taken  from  Uncle  Sam's 
pronouncements  more  or  less  directly.  There  is  no 
charge  whatever  for  this  advice  to  the  intelligent 
maker  of  real  walking  wear  who  cares  to  put  out  a 
sporting  shoe  which  will  sell  itself  after  it  once  is 
used.  It  is  first-hand  advice,  too — the  writer  of  it  is 
139 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

just  back  from  the  Sierras,  where  he  climbed  Mount 
Whitney,  the  highest  peak  in  the  United  States,  along 
with  other  pedestrianism,  and  all  this  was  done  with 
perfect  comfort  and  in  the  U.  S.  army  shoe.  It  is  the 
easiest  shoe  I  ever  walked  in. 


VII 

MOUNTAIN  CAMPING 


VII 
MOUNTAIN  CAMPING 

A     PECULIAR  phase  of  life  in  Europe  seems 
to  be  that  it  is  all  in  doors.    I  do  not  recall 
ever  to  have  seen  any  sort  of  tent  or  en- 
campment in  all  Europe  except  such  as  are  used  for 
military  purposes.    The  camp  in  the  wilderness  seems 
unknown  there.     Hotels,  inns,  cottages  abound  and 
you  can  be  very  comfortable  in  the  remotest  regions 
obtainable;  but  of  camp  life,  as  we  understand  it  on 
this  continent,  there  seems  to  be  none  at  all. 

Take  other  countries  as  they  come.  East  Africa  is 
a  good  outdoor  region  and  more  is  the  pity  that  it  is 
so  far  away  and  so  expensive.  The  game  regions  of 
the  far  North  of  this  country,  on  the  Mackenzie,  the 
Yukon,  are  impossibly  inaccessible,  impossibly  uncom- 
fortable as  well.  The  upper  Rockies,  say,  of  British 
Columbia,  hold  one  of  the  best  regions  that  we  have, 
but  travel  there  is  a  matter  of  time  and  expense,  and, 
moreover,  it  is  not  a  pleasant  mountain  country,  for 
the  timber  is  very  heavy,  the  climate  is  damp,  and 
there  is  much  devil's  club.  Even  our  own  Alaska, 
abounding  as  it  does  in  big  game,  is  not  comfortable 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

camping  country,  so  far  as  the  western  coast  is  con- 
cerned, because  of  the  continuous  rains.  It  is  true 
that  in  all  these  countries  named,  there  is  an  extensive 
and  interesting  outdoor  life,  but  it  is  not  the  most 
pleasant  phase  of  outdoor  life  that  is  possible. 

The  best  man's  country  that  ever  lay  out  of  doors 
still  lies  there — that  along  the  great  double  backbone 
of  the  United  States,  the  Rockies  and  the  Sierras. 
Take  the  foothills  and  mountains  of  Montana,  Wyom- 
ing, Colorado,  New  Mexico,  as  well  as  of  the  more 
western  ranges  bounded  by  Washington,  Oregon,  Cali- 
fornia, and  you  have  the  cream  of  all  the  world  for 
the  outdoor  man.  True,  the  big  game  is  not  so  abun- 
dant there  as  was  once  the  case,  but  the  angling  is 
better  than  ever,  and  the  mountains  are  there,  the  sky 
is  there,  the  water  is  there,  and  the  wind  and  the 
trees.  Camp  life  in  the  upper  regions  of  this  man's 
country  is  in  the  belief  of  the  most  experienced  about 
the  summit  of  human  happiness. 

Mountain  camping  is  something  entirely  apart  from 
the  creed  of  the  lower  levels.  The  base  of  supplies 
is  left  far  behind.  Transportation  is  practical,  but  not 
too  abundant.  The  main  charm  of  it  is  its  absolute 
independence,  the  feeling  that  you  have  cut  loose  from 
civilization  with  its  comforts  and  all  its  compli- 
cations, and  that  at  last  you  have  gone  into  a 
country  sacred  to  the  hermit,  the  hunter,  the  prospec- 
144 


MOUNTAIN  CAMPING 

tor,  the  recluse,  the  trapper — or  just  the  loafer  like 
yourself. 

There  are  just  two  ways  of  getting  back  up  into 
the  high  country.  You  must  go  on  foot  or  on  horse- 
back. That  venerable  naturalist,  Mr.  John  Muir,  of 
California,  traveled  all  over  the  Sierras  on  foot  and 
alone.  He  did  not  even  carry  a  blanket  and  for  food 
he  took  little  excepting  a  sack  of  bread — which  some- 
times got  rather  stale  before  he  had  eaten  it  all. 
Berries  and  the  like  helped  him  out.  He  was  hardy 
enough  to  stand  that  sort  of  thing.  For  you  it  would 
be  a  mere  boast  and  a  large  discomfort  to  undertake 
anything  of  the  sort.  It  is  true  there  is  considerable 
foot  travel  in  some  of  the  mountain  national  parks 
where  the  grades  are  easy  and  the  trails  perfectly  plain. 
There  are  also  hiking  parties  of  young  and  enthusias- 
tic persons  who  manage  to  cover  considerable  dis- 
tances through  the  mountains,  carrying  their  impedi- 
menta on  their  own  backs.  For  the  average  man  this 
is  not  a  practical  and  pleasant  way  of  going  into  the 
mountains — it  is  hard  enough  even  at  the  lower  levels. 
Avoid  the  crime  of  insincerity  or  pose  in  your 
pleasures. 

The  alternative  transportation  is  that  of  the  saddle 

horse  and  the  pack  train.    This  is  really  the  pleasant- 

est  sort  of  an  outdoor  trip  that  a  healthy  and  hearty 

man  can  make.     It  leaves  all  of  the  delights  of  our 

145 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

Eastern,  Northern  or  Middle  Western  country  entirely 
eclipsed.  A  horse  and  saddle  and  the  diamond  hitch — 
there  lies  the  answer  to  your  questionings,  if  you  have 
Welch  rarebit  mares,  dyspepsia  or  hard  luck  of  any 
kind.  It  is  customary  for  anyone  undertaking  to 
describe  mountain  travel  to  waste  valuable  space  in 
trying  to  explain  the  diamond  hitch — that  essential  of 
all  mountain  travel.  No  man  ever  read  a  description 
of  the  diamond  hitch,  even  illustrated  by  the  most  in- 
genious pictures,  who  ever  got  any  clean-cut  idea  out 
of  the  reading.  It  is  entirely  different  on  paper  from 
what  it  is  on  the  wall-eyed  cayuse  with  a  bull-dog  fly 
biting  him  in  a  tender  place.  The  place  to  learn  the 
diamond  hitch  is  in  the  mountains  with  your  packer — 
who  has  practiced  it  all  his  life  without  the  aid  of 
any  printed  page. 

By  virtue  of  the  diamond  hitch,  and  a  few  horses, 
the  most  astonishing  things  can  be  done  by  way  of 
mountain  transport.  Pianos,  cook  stoves,  victrolas, 
sideboards,  melodeons,  or  anything  else,  can  be  taken 
into  the  mountains,  if  you  like.  Perhaps  your  guide, 
if  he  be  one  of  the  advertising  outfitters,  will  en- 
courage you  to  take  a  lot  of  stuff.  You  will  pay  three 
dollars  a  day  for  a  pack  horse  in  some  of  the  parks, 
two  dollars  a  day  in  some  of  the  others.  One  dollar 
a  day  is  about  the  average  rental  of  a  western  cayuse 
for  packing  purposes.  Your  outfitter  has  them  to 
146 


MOUNTAIN  CAMPING 

rent.  Too  big  a  train,  too  heavy  a  camp  outfit  simply 
anchors  you  and  wastes  your  time ;  on  the  other  hand, 
too  meager  a  lay-out  may  leave  you  handicapped  by 
discomfort.  The  average  pack-train  trip  in  the  moun- 
tains costs  about  fifteen  dollars  a  day  per  head  for  a 
party  of  one,  two  or  three.  It  all  depends  on  the 
length  of  your  trip  and  its  purpose.  A  delightful 
trip  in  the  mountains  can  be  made  by  two  and  even 
three  good  partners  who  don't  take  more  than  one 
pack  horse  between  them.  Sometimes  hardy  young 
men  will  walk  and  drive  along  a  single  pack  horse  or 
perhaps  two  and  carry  their  belongings.  A  saddle 
horse  and  a  pack  horse  behind  is,  as  they  used  to  say  in 
Texas,  thousands.  A  consultation  with  your  outfitter 
will  regulate  these  matters.  The  more  work  you  do, 
the  less  your  expense. 

Your  pack  train  once  provided,  you  will  find  that  it 
affords  a  very  wide  range  for  practical  outfitting.  It 
is  a  man's  proposition.  As  practised  by  the  real  men 
in  the  real  West,  it  cuts  out  all  the  dinky  stuff  with 
which  modern  sportsmanship  has  a  tendency  to  over- 
load itself.  The  go-light  outfit  is  viewed  with  cold 
disfavor  by  the  real  old-time  pack  master.  He  wants 
man's  size  stuff  along.  His  cooking  outfit  will  be 
made  of  steel,  iron,  agateware,  tin — something  which 
will  stand  the  grief  of  use  and  travel.  He  is  apt  to 
have  a  couple  of  kettles,  a  good  coffee-pot,  and  a  tea- 
147 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

pot.  These  will  have  riveted  spouts  and  each  will 
have  a  handle  or  bail.  You  can  get  all  these  things  in 
aluminum  or  other  ware,  but  better  leave  that  to  your 
guide.  He  will  have  stuff  which  is  time-tried.  Sheet- 
iron  is  not  bad  stuff  for  camp  ware.  I  have  in  my 
possession  a  sheet-iron  coffee-pot,  riveted,  with  not 
a  bit  of  solder  about  it,  which  made  a  trip  to  the 
Rockies  in  the  days  before  the  war.  My  father  gave 
it  to  me  and  I  find  it  will  still  make  excellent  coffee 
and  not  come  apart  on  the  fire.  Experience  on  your 
own  part  will  teach  you  to  leave  most  of  the  light  stuff 
at  home  and  to  come  to  like  the  practical,  simple  out- 
fit of  the  real  old-timer.  For  instance,  I  presume  you 
could  get  quite  a  good  sum  of  money  if  you  could 
devise  a  really  practical,  detachable  handle  for  a  fry- 
ing-pan. There  are  all  sorts  of  these  things  adver- 
tised. Of  course,  you  know  that  the  handle  on  a 
frying-pan  sticking  out  the  way  it  does  makes  it  a 
very  awkward  thing  to  transport.  Follow  an  old 
prospector  or  a  packer  into  the  hills  and  you  will  find 
that  his  frying-pan  does  not  have  any  handle,  but  nests 
down  handsomely.  Also  you  will  find  somewhere  in 
his  hip  pocket  or  his  saddle  pocket  he  will  have  a  big 
pair  of  pliers,  useful  for  many  things  around  camp, 
whether  in  pulling  nails,  shoeing  the  horse,  or  cutting 
wire.  It  is  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  to  take  the 
frying-pan  off  a  fire  just  by  means  of  this  old-time 
148 


MOUNTAIN  CAMPING 

pair  of  pliers.  Try  it  and  you  will  agree  that  there 
is  no  need  at  all  for  any  patent  handle  to  a  frying-pan. 
There  is  no  charge  for  this  advice,  and  you  may  patent 
it  if  you  like. 

Your  tent  in  the  mountains  may  be  large  and  com- 
fortable, for  the  back  of  a  pack  horse  is  pretty  broad. 
If  you  are  going  to  move  continuously,  the  A  tent  is 
as  practicable  as  anything  you  can  take.  If  you  are 
to  have  a  permanent  base  camp,  perhaps  it  is  just  as 
well  to  take  along  a  good,  practical  wall  tent.  You 
can  get  a  big  one,  fourteen  by  sixteen  feet,  made  in 
light  paraffined  fabric,  which  will  not  be  very  bulky 
nor  heavy.  If  you  want  to  take  a  tent  for  your  own 
private  use,  as  many  men  do,  it  can  be  the  single  pole 
variety.  In  general,  however,  stick  to  the  time-tried 
and  not  the  fanciful  things  in  outfit.  You  can  get 
many  tents  of  the  "dude"  order  with  which  you  can 
do  many  different  things.  Leave  them  at  home  in 
the  front  yard  for  the  boys  to  play  with.  I  have  a 
friend  who  delights  in  showing  me  his  new  six-shooter 
which  he  can  take  all  apart  in  two  or  three  movements 
of  the  wrist.  He  never  can  understand  why  I  do 
not  admire  his  gun.  It  is  because  I  once  lived  in  a 
country  where  everyone  considered  his  frontier  six- 
shooter  part  of  his  clothes.  I  never  saw  one  taken 
apart,  nor  one  that  needed  to  be  taken  apart.  It  is 
the  same  way  with  all  the  items  of  your  mountain 
149 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

outfit.  Let  the  dinky  stuff  and  the  dude  stuff  stay 
back  home  and  be  guided  by  the  experience  of  your 
old-time  pack  master,  who  will  not  lead  you  astray. 

As  to  your  bed,  let  us  have  one  more  whack  at  the 
sleeping-bag — that  accursed  invention  of  a  misguided 
soul.  Leave  your  sleeping-bag  at  home,  in  the  Adiron- 
dacks  or  in  the  Minnesota  woods.  Take  a  pair  of 
good  wool  blankets  which  will  weigh  not  less  than  ten 
pounds — more  weight  is  better.  Don't  despise  a  good 
wool  comforter  or  a  "katy"  which  will  fold  double 
and  make  a  nice  mattress  under  you.  And  whatever 
you  do,  don't  fail  to  have  for  your  own  use  a  good, 
big  bed  "tarp"  as  it  is  known  in  the  West.  On  the 
stock  ranches  we  always  used  to  have  the  tarpaulin 
of  twenty-ounce  duck,  about  seven  feet  by  fourteen, 
and  sometimes  it  had  harness  hooks  on  it,  .some- 
times not.  It  surely  would  turn  rain.  For  the  pack 
travel  of  today  you  will  not  need  canvas  of  quite  so 
much  weight.  But  canvas  and  wool  in  abundance  you 
surely  should  have  for  your  bed.  No  hunting  trip  is 
a  success  when  you  don't  sleep  well  and  dry  at  night. 
Canvas  and  wool  together  are  the  correct  dope  for  the 
mountains.  Take  an  air  mattress  if  you  insist,  or  if 
your  dealer  does.  Don't  blame  me  if  you  sleep  cold. 

Very  probably  your  outfitter  or  guide  is  lazy — it 
is  only  human  to  be  lazy.  Therefore,  before  you  start 
on  the  trip,  see  that  his  axe  is  a  man's-size  axe  and 
150 


MOUNTAIN  CAMPING 

that  it  is  really  sharp,  and  that  there  is  a  file  in  camp 
to  keep  it  sharp.  It  is  very  well  that  there  should  be 
in  the  party  one  or  two  additional  axes,  hand  axes 
of  at  least  a  pound  weight.  The  dinky  sort  that  go  in 
your  pocket  ought  to  be  left  at  home  with  that  patent 
tent  in  the  front  yard  for  the  children.  You  can  get 
a  good,  practical  little  hand-axe  with  a  knob  on  the 
handle,  a  claw  to  pull  nails,  and  some  real  steel  in  the 
blade.  This  will  be  a  little  heavy  to  carry  on  your 
belt  unless  you  are  out  for  a  hunt  by  yourself — and 
may  get  caught  out  over  night.  It  will,  however,  go 
well  on  your  saddle  horn.  Keep  your  own  axe  to 
yourself  in  your  own  tent,  and  don't  lend  it,  nor  let  it 
lie  around.  Keep  it  sharp.  One  or  two  of  these  little 
affairs  will  help  a  great  deal  in  camp  work.  They 
cannot,  however,  take  the  place  of  a  real  axe  in  certain 
phases  of  camp  life  and  of  mountain  travel. 

A  folding  pocket-knife  with  good-sized  blade  sup- 
plants the  long-blade  hunting-knife  which  most  of  us 
like  to  wear  in  the  wilderness.  This  will  do  for  your 
culinary  list  except  that  you  should  see  that  there  is 
a  spoon  and  fork  in  the  grub  box  for  you.  You  want 
your  own  box  of  matches  in  your  vest  pocket  with 
your  compass. 

On  your  saddle  is  your  rifle  scabbard  as  well  as 
your  camera,  which  latter  goes  at  the  side  of  the  horn. 
At  the  cantle  you  tie  your  coat  and  slicker.  Don't 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

forget  a  good,  loose  wool  coat,  for  the  nights  in  the 
mountains  are  cold ;  and  I  don't  know  but  that  you 
might  get  a  good  warm  waistcoat.  You  will  be  none 
too  warm.  There  should  be  a  good  sweater  some- 
where in  your  outfit.  Also  there  should  be  a  half 
dozen  pairs  of  heavy,  wool  stockings.  You  can  wear 
one  or  two  pairs  of  these  over  a  light  and  soft  pair 
of  stockings  so  that  your  feet  will  not  be  chafed.  A 
very  useful  form  of  footwear  for  almost  any  sort  of 
wilderness  travel  is  a  leather-top,  rubber- footed  shoe 
with  corrugated  sole.  You  can  get  them  with  heels 
also  if  you  like.  Until  worn  down  they  hold  well  on 
the  rocks.  It  is  always  more  or  less  damp  around 
camp,  even  in  the  mountains,  from  dew  or  the  like. 
If  you  have  on  a  couple  of  pairs  of  heavy  stockings 
and  this  water-proof  boot  or  moccasin,  you  can  be 
comfortable  in  the  evening  or  in  the  morning  when 
you  go  out  to  hunt  the  horses — which  naturally  are  al- 
ways lost.  A  light  pair  of  real  moccasins  supplements 
this  style  of  footwear  very  nicely  for  wear  in  camp 
when  on  dry  ground.  The  very  high  boots  are  best 
left  at  home  in  the  front  yard ;  but  a  good  substantial 
pair  of  calfskin  boots  with  hobnails  you  ought  to 
have.  You  cannot  ride  in  the  rubber-sole  shoes.  The 
hobnails  make  riding  a  trifle  more  dangerous,  as  they 
hang  to  the  stirrups;  but  as  most  of  your  horseman- 
ship will  be  simply  sitting  on  top  of  a  horse  as  it  plods 
152 


MOUNTAIN  CAMPING 

disspiritedly  along,  you  probably  can  use  hobnail  shoes 
or  boots  in  the  day's  work  in  the  saddle,  as  well  as 
on  foot.  Don't  have  your  boots  too  heavy  or  too 
new.  Read  the  chapter  on  Uncle  Sam's  shoes. 

Your  guide  or  outfitter  will  usually  attend  to  the 
grub  list.  Be  sure  he  has  read  very  little  in  expert 
counsel  on  emergency  rations  and  the  like.  He  is 
very  apt  to  start  out  with  a  sack  of  potatoes  and 
onions — and  shows  mighty  good  judgment  in  doing 
so.  The  usual  tendency  in  camp  food  is  not  to  have 
enough  bulk  and  coarseness  in  the  diet.  If  you  are 
going  very  far  and  cannot  carry  much  bulk,  you  can 
use  the  desiccated  onions  or  potatoes.  Your  guide  is 
very  apt  not  to  put  in  practice  many  theories  about 
going  light  when  it  comes  to  grub,  for  he  figures  that 
he  has  a  human  appetite  and  that  you  have  or  are 
going  to  have.  The  bacon  of  the  West  is  apt  to  be 
pretty  salty  and  somewhat  different  from  that  which 
Friend  Wife  gives  you  at  breakfast  at  home.  Still 
it  is  greasy  and  it  will  make  a  meal  before  you  find 
any  partridges  or  venison  or  trout.  Bacon  is  inde- 
structible and  indispensable  and  time-tried.  Accept  no 
oily  substitutes  in  cans,  for  you  surely  will  regret  it. 
Bacon  is  legal  tender,  man's  size,  and  C.  O.  D.  Take 
plenty  of  bacon,  and  then  a  little  more. 

Take  also  a  sack  of  flour,  and  a  quarter  of  a  sack 
of  corn-meal,  and  an  eighth  of  a  sack  of  rice.  Rice 
153 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

carries  a  lot  of  food  value  and  the  average  tenderfoot 
can  use  it  more  profitably  than  beans.  You  can  make 
puddings  out  of  rice  if  you  find  any  berries  or  if  you 
care  to  use  some  dried  fruit,  apricots  or  the  like,  with 
it.  Also  rice  goes  well  in  the  stew-kettle — to  which 
you  add  squirrel,  partridge,  venison,  bread,  bacon, 
anything  on  which  you  can  lay  your  hands.  Some- 
times the  stew-kettle,  still  half  full,  will  travel  along 
on  top  of  the  pack  horse  from  day  to  day.  It  is  better 
than  to  use  too  much  fried  food. 

Salt  is  one  of  the  heaviest  things  in  the  pack  train, 
but  you  must  have  it  if  you  are  on  a  big  game  hunt. 
It  takes  about  five  pounds  of  salt  safely  to  cure  the 
average  scalp  of  a  big  game  head.  In  the  moist 
country  of  Alaska  we  always  used  to  figure  that  for  a 
big  bear  hide  we  would  need  about  fifty  pounds  of  salt 
to  save  it.  You  and  your  guide  can  figure  out  about 
how  much  you  will  need.  If  you  run  short  of  salt, 
perhaps  you  can  save  a  scalp  by  careful  fleshing  and 
drying  in  the  open  air.  Even  pepper  will  tend  to  pre- 
serve it  and  protect  it  against  flies. 

Tinned  milk,  and,  indeed,  most  canned  goods,  are 
better  left  at  home.  They  are  very  bulky,  because 
they  have  a  lot  of  moisture  in  them.  Tinned  butter 
is  the  only  thing  of  that  sort  I  would  much  care  to 
have  in  my  own  camp  outfit.  Canned  goods  you  do 
not  need.  Your  rice,  your  corn-meal,  and  your  sack 
154 


MOUNTAIN  CAMPING 

of  dried  prunes  or  dried  apricots  will  do  the  trick  for 
you  far  more  practically.  Sugar  you  ought  to  have 
along,  as  well  as  tea  and  coffee.  You  can  make  syrup 
out  of  brown  sugar  and  mountain  water.  Don't  carry 
the  water  in  with  you  on  horseback,  because  it  is  al- 
ready there.  There  are  a  thousand  other  things  which 
you  can  take  if  you  like,  but  very  probably  your 
guide's  imagination  will  stop  working  about  this  stage 
of  the  game.  Of  course,  if  you  have  plenty  of  horses, 
you  can  pack  in  all  the  heavy  and  bulky  luxuries  you 
like.  The  tendency  is  that  way  today.  I  have  seen 
grapefruit,  cantaloupes  and  fresh  eggs  in  the  heart  of 
the  Sierras. 

Choosing  your  guide — or  rather  call  him  your  com- 
panion, for  the  word  "guide"  is  a  misnomer,  anyhow 
— is  the  most  important  problem  of  your  trip  into  the 
mountains  if  you  be  not  yourself  a  regular  mountain 
man.  In  general,  take  the  companion  who  is  recom- 
mended by  some  friend,  or  the  man  whom  you  have 
seen  yourself.  Don't  pick  out  a  guide  who  wears 
buckskin,  or  very  high-heeled  boots,  or  very  large 
spurs,  or  a  very  wide  hat,  or  a  very  fancy  hat  band. 
Go  in  for  the  chap  who  wears  any  sort  of  hat,  who  is 
very  much  sunburned,  rather  lean  and  hard  looking, 
who  probably  doesn't  wear  spurs  at  all  when  you  see 
him,  and  who  is  dressed  in  pants  and  overalls  and 
any  sort  of  shoes.  Better  get  a  rather  oldish  man, 
155 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

one  who  doesn't  talk  very  much  at  first,  and  who  has 
that  sort  of  look  around  his  eyes  which  you  know 
when  you  see  it.  I  like  them  to  have  rather  blue  or 
gray  eyes,  but  this  doesn't  bar  many  a  good  man  of 
other  colored  optics. 

Per  contra,  if  your  guide  is  choosing  you,  what  do 
you  think  he  would  rather  find  in  you?  Would  he 
pick  you  out  of  a  crowd  if  you  were  dressed  to  the 
limit  of  the  would-be  westernism — high  hat,  high 
boots,  long  knife,  six-shooter,  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing?  Would  he  choose  you  naturally  if  you  were 
turned  out  in  ultra  dude  outfit,  accordion  panties,  silk 
shirt  and  all  that  sort  of  thing?  I  trow  not.  You 
are  looking  for  a  human  being  in  your  guide.  He  is 
looking  for  the  same  thing  in  you.  He  wants  you  to 
be  his  friend  and  companion  as  well  as  his  employer 
and  he  wants  you  to  be  a  human  being  with  no  frills. 
Once  more,  avoid  the  crime  of  insincerity.  Don't 
pretend  to  be  what  you  are  not.  Simplicity  and  sin- 
cerity are  two  great  points  in  good  breeding  and  good 
conduct 

Choosing  your  horse  is  another  matter  which  may 
some  time  come  to  you  and  not  to  your  Western 
counselor.  If  so,  don't  pick  out  the  fat,  slick  horse 
with  no  marks  on  his  back.  Select  a  cayuse  of  rather 
rugged  architecture,  of  course  not  too  straight  up 
and  down  and  with  hoofs  not  entirely  too  large.  Be 
156 


MOUNTAIN  CAMPING 

sure  that  he  has  some  old  saddle  marks  on  his  back. 
That  means  that  he  has  been  ridden.  Don't  indulge 
in  any  bursts  of  confidence  in  Western  horses.  For 
the  first  few  days,  casually  insist  that  your  guide  or 
the  cook  or  somebody  else  top  off  your  mount  for  you 
in  the  morning  before  you  mount,  especially  if  the 
morning  be  frosty  or  rainy.  There  is  no  crime  in 
confessing  inexperience  with  mean  horses.  In  hand- 
ling a  Western  horse,  take  him  by  the  cheek  piece 
of  the  bridle  and  turn  him  around  a  few  times  if  you 
have  any  suspicions  about  him.  Mount  with  your 
back  to  the  horse's  face,  the  stirrup  turned  square 
around  to  meet  your  left  foot.  Don't  take  hold  of  the 
cantle  of  the  saddle.  That  is  tenderfootism.  Just 
grasp  the  horn  with  your  right  hand.  Then  as  you 
spring  up  you  do  not  have  to  cross  your  arm  with 
your  leg  as  you  get  into  place.  If  you  perform  in 
this  way  you  may  fool  your  horse  into  thinking  that 
you  are  his  boss,  which  is  all  he  wants  to  know. 
Generally,  however,  any  regular  outfitter  for  the 
mountains  is  careful  about  his  saddle  stock  and  he 
does  not  wish  to  play  any  tricks  with  his  employer. 
Most  of  your  saddle  work,  as  has  been  said,  will  not 
be  wildly  galloping  in  the  breeze,  but  simply  plodding 
along,  hour  after  hour,  in  rather  rough  country,  at 
a  slow  walk. 

Your  rifle,  of  course,  goes  under  your  leg  when 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

you  are  in  the  saddle.  If  you  can  take  only  one  rifle 
along,  let  it  be  a  twenty-two — it  will  mean  more 
meat  in  camp.  Your  fly  rod  should  go  with  you  and 
it  should  be  a  good  one.  A  very  practical  form  of  fly 
rod  is  made  with  a  detachable,  short  handle,  which  is 
not  easily  broken  and  which  will  go  in  a  bag  or  valise. 
The  middle  piece  and  tips  can  be  carried  in  a  steel 
tube  with  a  screw  cap.  This  will  stand  the  grief  of 
the  biting  lash  rope.  Your  fly  book  need  not  be  bulky 
nor  too  numerously  stocked.  Some  bucktails,  some 
professors,  some  coachmans,  these  will  do  the  work 
for  you  in  wild  streams.  Have  them  pretty  large,  or 
part  of  them  so  at  least,  for  often  you  will  strike  trout 
of  four  or  five  pounds  in  some  of  the  bolder  waters. 
There  is  only  one  saddle  worth  thinking  of  for 
the  mountains  and  that  is  the  cow  saddle.  If  you  can 
afford  one  of  your  own,  all  the  better.  Have  it  made 
to  fit  you  like  a  suit  of  clothes,  and  then  stick  with  it. 
As  to  the  pack  saddles,  you  will  see  all  sorts  of  pack 
saddles  and  saddle  rigs  recommended.  Stick  to  the 
time  tried  sawbuck,  which  very  probably  would  be 
the  choice  of  your  guide  if  he  is  an  old-timer.  Very 
probably  he  will  have  kayaks  or  panniers  for  packing. 
It  takes  time  to  roll  up  a  series  of  packs  made  out 
of  the  camp  outfit  every  morning  and  to  get  these  into 
place.  Kayaks  of  rawhide  or  canvas  simplify  matters 
very  much  and  are  more  apt  to  stay  put  when  you 
158 


MOUNTAIN  CAMPING 

hang  them  on  the  saddle.  I  once  saw  a  very  good 
set  of  panniers  made  out  of  willow  champagne  cases. 
They  come  a  little  high  these  days  if  you  buy  them 
with  the  intent  of  first  exhausting  their  fluid  con- 
tents. 

Pack  train  travel  itself  is  something  different  from 
any  other  form  of  human  activity.  Unless  a  train  has 
worked  together  for  some  time  and  is  used  to  going 
away  from  home,  some  of  the  horses  will  need  watch- 
ing to  keep  them  from  turning  back  to  their  old 
pastures,  hobbles  or  no  hobbles.  Then,  again,  there 
is  always  a  pack  horse  which  does  not  want  to  go 
along  with  the  rest  and  which  has  to  be  herded  all 
the  time  to  keep  him  in  line.  If  you  can,  get  a  train 
made  up  of  animals  which  have  worked  together. 
There  is  a  curious  sort  of  attachment  between  horses 
which  have  lived  together.  They  have  the  most  acute 
dislike  for  being  left  alone.  Take  some  decrepit,  old, 
wall-eyed  cayuse,  which  will  scarcely  even  groan  un- 
der the  rope's  end  and  which  bears  every  mark  of  early 
dissolution,  and  watch  him  when  the  other  members  of 
the  train  disappear  around  the  shoulder  of  the  hill — he 
will  raise  his  head,  extend  his  ears,  and  emit  the  most 
heartbreaking  wail  of  protest.  Then  he  will  scamper 
off  on  a  fast  trot  until  he  gets  in  sight  of  his  friends 
again.  Horses  do  have  strong  friendships  of  this  sort 
and  they  are  very  gregarious  in  their  nature.  I  was 
159 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

once  coursing  deer  down  in  the  old  Indian  Nations  in 
the  old  times,  and  a  friend  and  I  rode  a  pair  of 
"States"  horses  which  we  had  taken  down  there  as 
harness  horses.  If  one  of  these  got  out  of  sight  of  the 
other,  he  would  immediately  begin  to  neigh  in  the  most 
impassioned  fashion,  and  more  than  once  this  unusual 
appeal  would  start  our  game  or  spoil  some  plan  of 
the  hunt.  We  felt  like  killing  both  of  them  before 
we  got  done.  Of  course,  also,  you  will  feel  like  mur- 
dering every  pack  horse  in  a  train  before  you  get  done 
with  them.  Your  guide  will  be  more  philosophical, 
for  he  has  been  there  before. 

You  can  crowd  quite  a  lot  of  stuff  on  top  of  the 
cayuse  if  you  insist.  If  you  keep  your  packs  down 
to  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  pounds  or  less,  and 
if  you  travel  five  hours  a  day  or  less,  you  will  get 
along  comfortably  and  steadily,  and  not  have  any  of 
your  stock  knocked  out,  always  provided  your  out- 
fitter knows  how  to  pack  the  least  bit  on  earth.  Don't 
try  to  take  too  much  and  don't  try  to  go  too  far.  Take 
it  easy.  Don't  crowd  the  ball. 

The  one  great  delight  of  the  mountain  trip  is  that 
you  have  cut  loose  from  all  sorts  of  worries.  Forget 
all  about  the  day  when  you  must  meet  the  railroad. 
Remember  that  you  have  left  the  telephone  and  the 
daily  newspaper  far  behind  you.  Don't  crowd  your 
horses  and  don't  crowd  yourself.  Take  it  easy.  If 
1 60 


MOUNTAIN  CAMPING 

you  can  do  this,  I  presume  you  will  find  your  camp- 
ing trip  in  the  mountains  one  of  the  pleasantest  of  all 
possible  human  experiences. 

This  country  of  ours  is  so  big  that  no  one-tenth 
of  it  knows  how  the  other  nine-tenths  live.  The  curse 
of  American  life  in  general  is  that  of  strain  and 
hurry  and  the  ambition  to  make  all  the  money  there  is 
or  get  all  the  so-called  success  there  is.  Most  of  these 
gods  of  ours  are  clay  in  the  feet  and  a  good  deal 
higher  up.  We  do  not  get  enough  out  of  human  life 
as  we  go  along. 

Perhaps  the  best  human  life  ever  lived  in  America 
was  that  of  Colonial  days  in  the  South.  The  nearest 
approach  to  that  which  we  have  now  is  the  life  on  the 
Pacific  coast.  There  are  only  two  places  in  the  United 
States  where  men  and  women  know  how  to  live  at 
all.  One  is  in  the  South  and  the  other  is  on  the  Coast 
In  California,  Oregon  and  Washington  the  visitor 
will  find  phases  of  life  altogether  unknown  in  the  East 
or  the  Middle  West.  A  most  pronounced  feature  of 
this  is  the  tendency  to  get  out  of  doors — a  tendency, 
of  course,  made  possible  by  the  climate  of  that  coun- 
try. We  do  not  in  the  least  know  how  to  live  east 
of  the  Alleghenies  or  in  the  Mississippi  Valley  or  on 
the  eastern  slopes  of  the  Rockies.  But  on  the  Coast 
they  are  beginning  to  get  something  out  of  life  as  they 
go  along.  In  that  part  of  America  you  will  see  more 
161 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

camping,  especially  camping  in  the  high  places,  than 
you  will  anywhere  else  in  our  domain. 

By  this  I  mean  not  so  much  the  professional  camp- 
ing out  or  the  big-game  hunter  or  the  mountain 
climber  as  that  of  the  amateur  and  of  the  family  party. 
The  automobile  has  changed  the  social  life  of  all  of 
our  country  and  nowhere  so  much  as  on  the  Pacific 
slope.  It  is  used  as  a  practical  means  of  transporta- 
tion in  the  mountains.  You  will  see  countless  motor 
camping  parties  all  through  the  Sierras  and  Cascades 
at  elevations  of  six  thousand,  seven  thousand,  eight 
thousand  feet  above  the  sea.  Naturally  they  are  con- 
fined to  the  mountain  roads  which  have  been  built.  It 
is  to  be  hoped  that  our  government  will  extend  more 
and  more  its  series  of  roads  through  the  Sierras  and 
Rockies,  for  they  certainly  open  up  a  new  world  of 
delight  for  the  use  of  Americans. 

The  boundaries  of  the  world  have  been  moved  out 
enormously  by  the  invention  of  the  gasoline  engine. 
Thus,  I  once  saw  a  family  party  of  campers  in  the 
pine  woods  near  the  Grand  Canon  of  Arizona.  They 
had  come  all  the  way  from  Los  Angeles  across  the 
desert,  and  brought  everything  with  them  that  they 
needed — their  tents,  beds,  cooking  outfit  and  grub  box, 
all  lying  about  here  and  there  about  their  sturdy  motor 
car.  When  I  saw  them,  they  were  in  camp,  a  half 
dozen  in  all ;  they  had  come  in  a  couple  of  cars.  And 
162 


MOUNTAIN  CAMPING 

of  the  party  there  were  two  or  three  of  the  brownest, 
healthiest,  heartiest  young  girls  you  ever  saw  in  the 
world.  They  did  not  seem  to  have  a  care  on  earth. 
They  were  happy  and  wholly  in  tune  with  their  life. 
The  horizons  of  their  life  were  broader  than  those  of 
twenty  years  ago.  They  had  found  something  of  the 
comfort  of  the  hills. 

In  the  course  of  travel  through  the  Sierras  or  the 
Cascades  or  the  Rockies  you  will  today  find  many  sucH 
automobile  camps.  Sometimes  a  solitary  individual 
will  take  his  light  and  cheap,  but  wholly  practical,  car 
into  the  mountains  all  by  himself.  He  will  have  room 
for  a  dog,  a  tent,  a  bed,  and  abundant  grub.  He  may 
stop  where  he  likes  for  a  day  or  a  week — at  some  spot 
where  the  water  is  good  and  the  view  is  grand.  You 
will  see  him  with  his  tent  extended  back  from  the  side 
or  rear  of  his  car,  making  a  part  of  his  temporary 
house  out  of  the  car  itself.  For  a  half  dozen  such 
camps  in  the  high  places,  you  will  find  a  half  dozen 
ingenious  schemes  for  utilizing  actual  means  at  hand 
— human  ingenuity  employed  in  human  enjoyment. 
This  new  and  increasing  use  of  the  delights  of  higfi 
mountain  scenery  is  one  of  the  pleasantest  phases  of 
American  life.  The  five-passenger  car  at  a  low  price 
is  the  most  efficient  enemy  the  insane  asylum  ever  had 
in  all  the  world.  It  gives  an  outlet  for  the  man  who 
doesn't  want  to  use  a  pack  train,  but  is  contented  to  do 
163 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

with  something  a  little  less  than  a  big-game  hunt  and 
to  remain  a  little  outside  of  the  most  penetralia  of  the 
wilderness. 

Thus  you  may  choose  quite  a  range  of  enjoyment 
in  the  wonderful  mountain  country  of  the  West.  In- 
deed, you  could  use  the  same  means  of  enjoyment  in 
any  one  of  scores  of  places  along  the  Alleghenies  or 
the  Appalachians  in  the  East.  Fishing,  climbing,  loaf- 
ing, or  traveling — there  is  nothing  better  than  this  sort 
of  thing  high  up  in  the  hills,  in  places  where  you  can 
see  the  ragged  line  of  the  white  mountains  lying  on 
ahead  of  you,  where  the  trees  have  grown  small  and 
crooked  around  you,  but  where  the  sky  has  taken  on 
a  strange,  new  blue,  where  the  grub  has  taken  on  a 
strange,  new  taste,  and  where  your  heart  has  learned 
a  strange,  new  charitableness  toward  all  mankind. 
You  could  not  call  that  kind  of  trip  a  failure,  even  if 
you  did  not  kill  very  much  game. 


VIII 
YOUR  CANOE  AND  ITS  OUTFIT 


VIII 
YOUR  CANOE  AND  ITS  OUTFIT 

NO  doubt  the  first  boat  was  a  log,  seeing  which 
pass  by  upon  the  waters  some  soapless  soul 
perhaps  hailed  with  the  exclamation,  "It 
floats !"  It  may  have  taken  yet  more  prehistoric  time 
to  discover  that  the  bark  of  a  log  will  float  as  well 
as  the  body  thereof,  is  easier  to  carry  between  streams, 
or  to  propel  on  any  water.  These  things  happened 
before  our  time.  We  white  men  found  the  Indian 
bark  canoe  in  a  model  long  unchanged,  and  have  but 
slightly  improved  upon  it  except  in  the  way  of  ma- 
terials. Imitating  the  canoe  itself,  we  have  to  some 
extent  imitated  the  customs  which  came  down  with  it. 
The  Indian  was  poor  and  had  not  much  equipment. 
He  could  take  his  boat  and  its  needful  contents  on  his 
back  and  start  across  country  very  comfortably.  Such 
has  ever  been  the  aim  and  ambition  of  the  white  ca- 
noeist in  his  day. 

Your  true  canoeist  takes  himself  seriously,  even  al- 
though he  recognizes  himself  as  an  imitator  of  savage 
man.    But  both  the  canoe  and  the  canoeist  are  worth 
167 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

taking  seriously.  There  is  no  more  beautiful  form 
of  sport,  none  more  clean  than  canoeing,  and  if  you 
look  over  the  personnel  of  any  branch  of  sport — shoot- 
ing, fishing,  racing,  boxing,  golfing,  all  amateur  ath- 
letics— you  will  find  no  body  of  men  to  surpass  the 
canoeists  of  this  country.  With  few  exceptions,  they 
are  men  of  good  standards  in  life,  in  business  and  in 
sport. 

We  have  had  canoeists  ever  since  our  leisure  days 
began,  but  today  there  are  more  canoes  per  capita 
than  ever  before.  The  sport  grows  not  only  as  to 
its  organized  form  in  the  parent  American  Canoe 
Association  and  its  allied  divisions,  but  also  in  its  un- 
arfiliated  and  individual  phase.  The  central  body  of 
all  the  organized  canoeists  is  of  course  the  American 
Canoe  Association,  whose  great  summer  meets  on  the 
St.  Lawrence  or  the  Great  Lakes  are  very  famous 
affairs.  The  Western  Division  of  the  A.  C.  A.  also 
has  at  times  held  important  meets,  local  cruises,  annual 
camps,  etc.,  not  to  mention  the  regular  summer  busi- 
ness meeting  and  the  annual  midwinter  banquet.  In 
this  way  canoeists  are  brought  together  for  many 
years,  and  there  are  members  now  meeting  in  one 
or  other  of  these  associated  divisions  who  first  met 
as  canoeists  thirty  years  ago,  and  who  have  grown 
old  in  the  sport  together.  Naturally  the  summer 
meetings  in  the  big  permanent  camps  are  largely 
1 68 


YOUR  CANOE  AND  ITS  OUTFIT 

racing  meets,  for  amateur  prizes  in  a  number  of 
events,  paddling,  sailing,  etc.  Among  the  men  who 
go  in  for  this  sort  of  thing,  however,  are  many  who 
now  and  then  take  a  solitary  cruise  of  their  own  in 
the  wilderness  or  elsewhere,  and  an  increasing  num- 
ber of  men  go  in  for  this  form  of  the  sport  who  care 
little  for  identification  with  any  organization.  These 
are  the  closest  imitators  of  the  solitary  Indian  and  his 
ways. 

Besides  being  the  cleanest,  the  most  beautiful  and 
the  most  spectacular  of  all  our  sports,  canoeing  is  one 
of  the  most  economical,  even  if  you  belong  to  a  canoe 
association.  You  can  get  a  good  canoeing  outfit  for 
about  what  a  good  golf  outfit  will  cost  you,  and  there 
are  no  club  dues  to  pay,  unless  a  trifle  of  a  dollar  a 
year  association  membership  be  called  such.  You  can 
purchase  a  good  canoe  today  either  in  the  cedar  or 
cedar  and  canvas  type  for  thirty  to  sixty  dollars. 
Even  if  you  go  in  for  extras — cane-seated  stools  and 
lazybacks  for  the  ladies,  a  carrying  yoke,  an  extra 
cushion  or  so — you  cannot  very  well  spend  much 
money  on  your  boat.  That  is  to  say,  if  you  purpose 
being  a  devotee  to  the  cruising  canoe.  Of  course,  if 
you  want  one  of  the  beautiful  racing  craft,  built  not 
for  comfort  but  for  speed,  you  can  spend  more  money. 
That  is  but  one  branch  of  canoeing — the  racing  side 
of  the  sport — but  even  that  is  purely  amateur.  Very 
169 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

bold  and  skillful  are  some  of  these  amateur  sailor- 
men  who  race  these  little  flyers,  built  decked  fore  and 
aft,  with  a  self-bailing  cockpit,  rigged  mainsail  and 
mizzen,  and  sailed  with  a  hiking  board  which  allows 
the  skipper  to  lean  entirely  outside  his  boat,  balancing 
as  artfully  as  any  bicyclist,  his  weight  against  the 
thrust  of  the  wind,  and  his  eye  against  the  variations 
thereof.  Such  a  boat  is  no  place  for  a  man  who  cannot 
swim.  Fifty  such  men  in  fifty  such  boats  make  a 
merry  sight  of  a  pleasant  summer  day.  It  is  ama- 
teur work,  absolutely  on  the  square.  There  is  no  pro- 
fessionalism thus  far  in  American  canoeing.  The 
most  expert  canoeman  has  no  place  to  go  if  he  wants 
to  cash  in  his  amateur  knowledge.  Not  for  him  is 
any  of  the  muck  of  the  so-called  Olympian  games, 
and  not  for  him  the  commercialism  which  governs 
certain  of  our  American  pastimes  of  the  more  popu- 
lar sort. 

But  the  bone  and  sinew  of  the  sport  of  canoeing  is 
your  solitary  man  who  goes  out  alone  or  with  one 
companion  into  the  wilderness  and  takes  care  of  him- 
self as  the  Indian  used  to  do,  priding  himself  on  the 
lightness  and  compactness  of  his  outfit.  How  light 
can  the  canoeman's  outfit  be?  There  was  one  old 
woodsman,  more  or  less  famous  in  his  time,  who  re- 
duced his  outfit  to  twenty-two  pounds  in  weight — that 
is  to  say,  his  canoe  and  all  its  contents  weighed 
170 


YOUR  CANOE  AND  ITS  OUTFIT 

twenty-two  pounds.  A  builder  made  for  him  several 
of  these  extremely  light  canoes,  one  as  low  as  nine 
pounds.  I  saw  one  of  them  which  I  could  lift  out  at 
arm's  length  on  one  finger — I  think  it  weighed  about 
eleven  pounds.  In  this  craft  he  managed  to  get  about 
quite  a  bit  up  in  the  Adirondacks,  carrying  what  suf- 
ficed him  for  a  camp  outfit.  This  is  a  little  bit  like 
painting  the  lily,  but  at  least  it  will  show  the  possibili- 
ties of  going  light. 

After  all,  that  sort  of  thing  may  be  called  faddish. 
No  one  knows  how  many  men  and  boys  were  drowned 
in  imitation  of  this  old  extremist.  It  is  far  more 
sensible  to  encourage  man's-size  equipment.  Any  team 
of  horses  will  run  away  and  any  canoe  will  upset, 
and  no  canoe  is  safe.  To  be  practical  and  rational  is 
always  a  good  thing  in  sport.  To  make  the  canoe 
outfit  light,  practical  and  safe  has  been  the  study  of 
many  good  business  men  who  have  had  offered  to 
them  the  ideas  of  many  amateurs.  There  is  a  mental 
as  well  as  physical  stimulus  in  this  fascinating  form 
of  recreation,  and  you  will  hardly  meet  any  canoeist, 
or  go  to  any  canoe  camp,  without  learning  of  some 
new  wrinkle  which  some  canoeist  has  discovered. 

The  canoe  also  has  its  social  side.  Around  the  city 
of  Boston  there  are  many  hundreds  of  canoes  in  use 
in  the  summer  season,  and  the  craft  has  become  very 
popular  of  late  in  almost  all  the  large  cities  where 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

there  is  any  safe  canoeing  water.  In  many  of  the 
busy  Western  cities,  where  for  a  generation  business 
men  have  thought  it  criminal  to  engage  in  any  sort  of 
sport,  you  may  now  of  a  summer  evening  see  many 
and  many  a  tired  business  man  taking  his  wife  or  his 
sweetheart  or  his  children  out  paddling  on  some  lake 
or  stream,  and  having  a  quieter  time  of  it  than  the 
occupants  of  the  chugging  power  boats  which  repre- 
sent the  ambition  of  others  who  are  in  a  hurry  and 
who  love  noise.  You  can  go  in  for  a  good  deal  of  ele- 
gance in  such  a  personal  craft  as  the  city  man's  canoe 
— line  it  with  tapestry  carpets  and  silk  cushions,  have 
seats  of  cane  and  lazybacks  of  polished  woods.  But 
all  the  time  the  model  of  the  canoe  will  be  that  which 
has  been  practically  stereotyped  for  a  long  time,  the 
model  of  the  woods.  The  white  man's  canoe,  how- 
ever, has  one  great  advantage  over  the  red  man's — 
it  is  always  dry  and  clean,  and  so  lends  itself  to  deco- 
ration, even  of  the  feminine  sort.  A  rowboat  is 
clumsy  and  sloppy,  but  a  well-handled  canoe  is  clean 
as  a  parlor  chair. 

Of  course  the  big  association  meets,  or  summer 
cruising  meets  of  less  size,  are  the  real  clearing-houses 
for  canoe  information.  In  any  such  camp  you  will 
find  many  interesting  devices  showing  the  personal 
love  men  have  for  this  clean  form  of  sport.  In  these 
cruises  or  traveling  meets  where  camp  is  broken  every 
172 


YOUR  CANOE  AND  ITS  OUTFIT 

day  or  so,  the  usual  thing  is  for  two  men  to  go  in 
one  canoe,  and  to  divide  the  camp  outfit.  A  fourteen- 
or  sixteen- foot  canoe — not  to  mention  the  fine  craft 
which  are  made  up  to  eighteen  feet — will  carry  two 
men  and  a  perfectly  comfortable  camp  outfit. 

Men  have  used  cruising  canoes  on  long  trips,  camp- 
ing at  night  without  any  tent,  and  sleeping  in  the 
canoe  itself  with  only  a  shelter  over  the  cockpit.  You 
will  see  the  cruiser  of  today  usually  carrying  along  a 
tent,  a  practical  yet  very  light  affair,  usually  of  so- 
called  silk  or  silkaline — which  is  really  Egyptian  cot- 
ton— of  bulk  scarce  larger  than  a  pocket  handkerchief, 
and  a  total  weight  of  only  four  or  five  pounds.  There 
are  divers  curious  and  ingenious  forms  of  these  light 
tents.  They  may  be  had  with  shallow  walls,  in  the 
A  model,  the  single-pole  circular  or  miner's  model, 
or  in  the  open-front  camp  model,  with  a  screen  over 
the  door.  Most  often  the  canoe  man  does  not  carry 
tent  poles,  but  uses  a  ridge  pole  made  of  a  light  rope, 
which  he  stretches  between  two  trees  or  over  two 
crotched  poles  which  he  cuts  in  the  woods.  The  old- 
timer  laughs  at  the  man  who  carries  metal  tent  pegs, 
but  your  dandy  canoeist  will  be  very  apt  to  pull  out 
a  dainty  bag  with  a  lot  of  short,  pointed  wire  pine 
with  a  ring  at  the  ends,  like  a  surveyor's  pin.  They 
hold  well  enough  to  keep  down  the  edges  of  the  tent 
in  ordinary  weather.  Of  course  the  ropes  on  such  a 
173 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

tent  are  not  really  ropes  at  all,  but  light,  strong  cords. 
The  tent  itself,  however,  will  turn  wind  and  weather 
very  well. 

Sometimes  the  tent  will  have  the  floor  sewn  into  it. 
If  not,  the  canoeist  will  have  a  light,  water-proof  floor 
cloth  of  some  kind  on  which  to  make  his  bed.  If  the 
cruise  is  in  the  wilderness,  he  will  have  some  sort  of 
defenses  against  mosquitoes,  either  a  bobbinet  net- 
ting inside  the  tent,  or  a  door  to  the  tent  itself.  All 
his  equipment,  however,  will  be  light.  He  will  not 
carry  a  big  roll  of  blankets  and  comforters  like  a 
cowpuncher,  nor  a  tarpaulin  of  twenty-ounce  duck, 
like  the  cowpuncher.  In  short,  the  canoeist's  tent, 
floor  cloth,  blankets,  clothing  and  grub  outfit  all  to- 
gether will  not  bulk  so  large  and  will  not  weigh  much 
more  than  the  cowpuncher's  bedroll  which  he  throws 
into  the  cook  wagon. 

In  the  fixed  association  camps  there  will  be  a  regu- 
lar street  of  tents,  all  pretty  much  alike,  often  of  a  big 
marquee  model,  tall  enough  for  one  to  stand  in,  with 
plenty  of  arrangements  for  clothes  hangers  and  the 
like,  room  for  a  cot,  and  arrangements  for  all  sorts 
of  little  artificial  camp  comforts.  This  is  the  effete 
side  of  the  sport.  The  canoeist  makes  amends  foi1 
that  by  the  severity  of  his  costume.  A  sleeveless  jer- 
sey, a  pair  of  duck  trousers,  and  rubber-soled  sneak- 
ers are  en  regie  on  cruise,  or  about  camp,  even  at 
174 


YOUR  CANOE  AND  ITS  OUTFIT 

mixed  soirees,  although  there  are  occasions  when  blue 
coats  and  visored  caps  come  into  use.  The  man  on 
cruise  depends  on  a  sweater  or  an  old  coat  for  his 
evening  costume.  All  his  clothes  must  be  of  the  sort  to 
go  into  a  bag,  for  the  trunk  or  valise  is  taboo.  These 
sailor  bags  are  usually  slim,  round  affairs,  water-proof, 
and  capable  of  being  tied  in  such  way  that  they  will 
not  take  water  even  in  case  of  a  capsize. 

Your  canoeman  still  experiments  with  blankets. 
They  must  be  light  and  no  larger  than  needful.  Bulk 
is  almost  as  bad  as  weight  in  his  game.  The  cot  is 
not  quite  the  thing  on  cruise,  and  the  bed  must  go  into 
a  bag. 

A  pillow,  of  course,  is  hardly  allowable  in  a  tent 
occupied  by  really  rugged  canoeists.  There  are  the 
round  dunnage  bags  into  which  one  can  put  a  pair  of 
boots,  a  sweater,  an  extra  shirt,  or  even  a  little  grass 
or  straw. 

There  is  one  thing  to  be  remarked  about  all  canoe- 
ing— its  cleanliness.  Etiquette,  ethics  and  custom 
make  this  mandatory  upon  every  man  in  the  camp, 
or  even  upon  the  lone  man  in  the  wilderness.  This 
is  the  one  standard  of  conduct — to  be  neat  and  to  be 
clean.  In  a  canoe  camp  you  are  apt  to  see  each  chap 
make  him  a  little  broom  of  twigs.  The  floor  and  front 
of  his  tent  will  be  swept  clean.  There  is  an  unwritten 
law  against  throwing  rubbish  in  the  company  street 
175 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

or  assembly  grounds.  Very  often  there  will  be  a 
camp  police  appointed  to  care  for  the  careless. 

If  you  look  inside  a  real  canoeist's  tent  you  will 
find  everything  absolutely  in  apple-pie  order.  On  the 
side  of  the  tent  you  will  see  a  little  "housewife,"  in 
which  he  keeps  his  combs,  brushes,  needles,  threads, 
and  other  little  articles  not  stored  in  his  war  bag. 
Loose  odds  and  ends  of  food  or  equipment  are  not 
good  form.  The  camp  mess,  or  the  individual  messes, 
are  usually  storage  places  for  the  receptacles  carrying 
grub,  and  every  tent  is  made  to  keep  all  as  neat  as 
possible. 

Above  all,  hospitality  reigns  in  a  canoe  camp, 
whether  of  many  men  or  of  two  or  of  one.  This, 
too,  seems  to  have  come  down  from  Indian  times.  It 
is  a  pleasant  virtue,  and  your  canoeman  practices  it 
finely.  What  he  has  in  camp  is  yours  so  long  as  it 
lasts.  If  you  are  in  trouble  of  any  kind  with  your 
boat  or  equipment,  a  dozen  are  ready  to  help  you. 
There  is  a  fine  comradery  in  the  sport.  Your  com- 
panion in  shooting  and  fishing  may  be  eager  to  beat 
you.  Your  companion  in  golf  may  be  sour  or  morose 
or  profane  at  his  bad  form.  Your  comrade  in  a  ca- 
noe camp  is  loafing  and  inviting  his  soul,  and  the  only 
competition  he  cares  for  is  to  make  you  have  a  better 
time  than  he  is  having  himself. 

In  such  a  camp  as  one  of  these  traveling  canoe 
176 


YOUR  CANOE  AND  ITS  OUTFIT 

meets  you  can  learn  very  much  about  the  canoe  and 
its  outfit.  All  the  standard  models  of  the  best  mod- 
ern canoes  will  be  represented,  and  you  have  oppor- 
tunity to  see  the  best  efforts  of  the  outfitters  in  pro- 
ducing things  practical  yet  portable.  Of  course  the 
outfitters  sell  to  canoeists  many  things  not  really  use- 
ful. Nearly  always  you  will  find  one  or  more  tents 
which  will  offer  you  soup  made  out  of  tablets,  coffee 
prepared  from  lozenges,  or  desiccated  vegetables 
which  do  not  taste  like  anything  in  particular.  These 
things  lose  something  of  their  charm  when  there  is  a 
farm  within  half  a  mile  where  one  can  get  milk,  eggs, 
fruits,  vegetables,  or  fowls.  Usually  the  division  ca- 
noe cruises  are  made  in  settled  countries. 

Canoe  cookery  may  or  may  not  be  good,  for  many 
men  have  many  skills  in  cooking  out  of  doors.  The 
cancer's  outfit  is  usually  simple,  and  he  does  not  carry 
many  days'  stores  unless  he  is  leaving  the  settlements 
altogether.  Bacon  he  must  have — in  spite  of  those 
who  insist  that  olive  oil  is  better  for  frying.  Fish  or 
game  he  may  have  as  opportunity  offers;  if  not  that, 
then  plain  beefsteak  bought  of  the  village  shop,  or 
chicken  lawfully  or  unlawfully  obtained.  If  he  car- 
ries potatoes  there  will  not  be  many  of  them.  You 
are  apt  to  find  his  flour  or  his  meal  in  little  water- 
proof bags,  well  tied  and  put  in  another  water-proof 
bag.  His  sugar  and  his  tea  will  be  similarly  cared 
177 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

for,  no  package  being  very  large  or  very  heavy.  Rice, 
sometimes  oatmeal,  not  infrequently  beans,  will  be 
found  in  these  light  stores ;  but  the  wish  of  the  canoe- 
ist is  to  forage  on  the  country  as  much  as  possible, 
and  in  most  canoe  cruises  villages  are  not  far 
apart. 

The  best  camp  cooks  rely  on  the  stew-kettle  as  well 
as  the  frying-pan.  Fried  fish,  fried  ham  and  eggs  are 
not  to  be  sneezed  at,  but  neither  is  the  stew  cooked 
slowly,  made  out  of  bits  of  meat,  some  vegetables,  a 
dumpling  or  so,  or  even  some  crusts  of  bread.  Squir- 
rels go  well  in  such  an  enterprise,  or  even  a  young 
rabbit.  Of  course,  in  a  game  country  where  one  can 
get  fish  or  grouse  there  is  no  cookery  and  no  food 
better  than  that  which  you  will  find  in  a  well-con- 
ducted camp  of  experienced  canoeists.  Many  of  these 
men  can  make  good  camp  bread  or  biscuits.  Those 
who  cannot,  depend  upon  the  loaves  of  bread  they 
can  find  here  or  there  in  the  country  or  in  the  village. 
Even  butter  you  may  find  in  camp — as  good  butter 
as  I  ever  ate  came  from  Nova  Scotia,  and  I  ate  it  at 
latitude  68  degrees  north. 

His  cook  outfit  is  the  pride  of  the  canoeist's  heart. 
You  will  find  hardly  any  two  outfits  alike.  Aluminum 
is  apt  to  be  the  material  used  in  part,  although  the  ex- 
perienced camper  does  not  use  an  aluminum  teacup, 
because  it  holds  heat  too  long.  The  canoeman  nearly 
178 


YOUR  CANOE  AND  ITS  OUTFIT 

always  has  a  stove,  but  one  which  will  go  in  his 
pocket — a  little  griddle  with  folding  legs  which  he 
can  thrust  down  into  the  ground,  making  his  stove  top 
any  height  he  likes. 

Of  course  you  can  broil  anything  you  like  right  on 
top  of  the  stove,  or  you  may  use  that  as  a  support 
for  your  kettle  or  your  frying-pan,  or  your  coffee-pot, 
if  the  latter  has  no  bail  by  which  you  can  hang  it 
over  the  fire  on  a  stick.  Above  all,  the  canoe  man 
prides  himself  on  the  smallness  of  his  fire — another 
Indian  tradition.  In  a  good  camp,  you  may  see  sev- 
eral little  fires  going  of  an  evening,  each  with  a  differ- 
ent outfit,  any  one  of  which  is  collapsible,  condensible, 
portable  and  practical. 

I  recall  eating  lunch  one  time  with  one  young  man 
in  a  canoe  camp,  when  we  had  eggs,  potatoes,  rice, 
beefsteak  and  coffee,  all  cooked  at  the  same  time,  on 
a  stove  not  a  foot  across,  and  in  a  set  of  utensils 
which  had  been  used  to  carry  the  grub  to  the  cooking 
place.  The  entire  outfit  cost  just  twenty-five  cents.  In 
fact,  it  was  nothing  more  nor  less  than  one  of  these 
four-storied  dinner  pails,  which  workmen  sometimes 
use  to  carry  their  lunches.  Each  compartment  comes 
free,  fitting  into  the  top  of  the  one  below  it,  which 
is  provided  with  a  shallow  flange.  The  whole  locks 
together,  the  cover  clamps  down,  and  when  the  work- 
man picks  up  his  pail  by  the  handle  he  may  be  carry- 
179 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

ing  off  a  dish  of  potatoes  in  the  basement,  a  pork  chop 
on  the  main  floor,  a  piece  of  pie  upstairs,  and  a  can 
of  coffee  in  the  attic.  Of  course  you  can  carry  raw 
food  in  any  one  of  these  compartments,  as  this  young 
man  had.  He  now  took  his  dinner  pail  apart  and 
used  each  one  of  these  compartments  as  a  cooking  ves- 
sel. It  worked  very  handsomely. 

One  trouble  with  such  a  cooking  outfit  is  that  it 
has  no  handles  or  bails.  But  a  trifle  like  this  would 
not  disconcert  a  shifty  canoeman.  My  host  had  in 
his  pocket  one  of  these  Yankee  pocket-knives  which 
have  all  sorts  of  things  concealed  in  them.  When  he 
wanted  to  lift  the  coffee-pot  he  did  so  with  a  hook 
which  he  found  inside  his  knife.  When  he  wished  to 
shift  the  compartment  in  which  he  was  boiling  rice, 
he  used  the  jaws  of  a  pair  of  pliers  which  he  also 
found  in  the  knife — and  which  he  applied  to  the  side 
of  the  bailless  vessel  just  as  though  he  intended  to 
cut  a  piece  of  wire — which  also  he  could  do  if  he 
wished.  In  short,  with  an  outfit  which  had  cost  next 
to  nothing,  and  which  had  little  of  weight  or  bulk, 
this  young  man  and  his  wife  cooked  a  meal  for  three, 
with  no  difficulty  whatever,  and  a  very  good  meal  it 
was.  Friend  Wife  washed  the  dishes.  She  was  not 
a  very  large  lady,  and  I  have  often  wondered  if  her 
husband,  an  ardent  canoeist,  did  not  marry  her  be- 
cause, in  part,  of  her  portability. 
180 


YOUR  CANOE  AND  ITS  OUTFIT 

Taking  this  young  gentleman's  camp  as  an  instance, 
and  this  meal  as  a  starting-point,  we  might  have  given 
quite  an  object  lesson  in  neatness  and  dispatch.  When 
the  dishes  were  washed,  the  stove  was  folded  up  and 
put  in  a  clean  canvas  cover.  The  dinner  pail  was  as- 
sembled again,  handle  and  all.  Our  plates,  very  light 
ones,  went  into  a  little  packet.  The  unused  raw  food 
for  the  next  meal  was  in  the  dinner-pail  outfit.  When 
the  tent  was  rolled  up  it  made  a  pack  less  than  eight 
by  twelve  inches  in  size.  The  floor  cloth  covered  the 
cargo.  The  clean,  soft  double  blanket  went  into  a 
bag,  and  another  bag  carried  the  clothing.  These 
slender,  round  bags  lay  lengthwise  in  the  hull  of  the 
canoe.  At  the  staff  on  her  bow  fluttered  the  little 
burgee  which  lately  had  adorned  the  tent.  The  two 
paddles  which  had  supported  one  end  of  the  ridge 
pole  now  came  into  use.  One  trip  from  camp  to  boat 
served  to  carry  the  entire  outfit,  and  when  the  little 
ship  was  loaded  there  was  plenty  of  room  for  two  or 
even  three.  Granted  two  men,  with  eight  or  ten 
times  as  much  supplies  as  we  had  in  this  boat,  added 
a  tackle  box,  two  rods,  a  rifle,  or  gun  and  ammunition, 
and  still  the  boat  would  have  ridden  high  and  would 
have  propelled  easily.  With  one  companion,  a  boy 
fourteen  years  old,  I  have  paddled  forty  miles  in  two 
days  up  a  very  swift  river  with  a  pretty  heavy  camp 
outfit,  and  never  felt  uncomfortable  either  afloat  or  in 
181 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

camp.  As  a  means  for  a  week-end  vacation  trip,  the 
canoe  is  not  to  be  surpassed. 

Of  course  in  the  Canadian  wilderness,  in  Maine 
and  New  Brunswick,  the  canoe  is  the  guide's  ship, 
the  one  means  of  transportation.  The  average  man 
who  goes  into  the  woods  does  not  know  how  to  cut 
down  his  duffle,  and  the  guides  dread  a  city  man  on 
the  portage.  But  with  a  rational  outfit,  two  good  ca- 
noeists can  go  far  into  the  wilderness.  I  know  of  one 
man  and  his  wife  who  were  lost  for  a  month  in  the 
Rainy  Lake  country,  by  themselves,  in  a  country  of 
which  they  knew  nothing  whatever — rather  a  risky 
undertaking,  to  be  sure,  but  one  in  which  there  was 
no  disaster  and  no  unbearable  discomfort.  This  sum- 
mer the  same  gentleman  and  his  wife  and  two  children, 
with  one  Indian  guide,  manned  two  canoes  and  jour- 
neyed far  into  the  lake  and  river  region  north  of  Lake 
Superior.  They  came  back  after  a  very  happy  and 
comfortable  time. 

There  are,  of  course,  some  experts  in  canoe  hand- 
ling who  like  to  take  long  and  hard  wilderness  trips. 
The  headwaters  of  the  Mississippi  River  are  some- 
times visited  in  this  way,  and  the  fast  waters  of  the 
upper  Wisconsin  River  are  also  popular.  Maine  is 
full  of  good  canoeing  waters,  and  the  Adirondacks 
have  long  been  a  paradise  for  the  little  boats.  But 
quite  outside  of  these  remote  and  somewhat  expensive 
182 


YOUR  CANOE  AND  ITS  OUTFIT 

regions — for  a  canoe  is  bulky  and  awkward  to  send 
anywhere  by  express — there  are  scores  and  hundreds 
of  amiable  little  rivers  close  at  home  which  can  be 
used  most  pleasantly  for  short  canoe  trips.  You  never 
know  a  river  until  you  run  it,  and  even  your  local 
river  where  you  have  fished  in  restricted  localities  per- 
haps for  many  years  becomes  for  you  a  highway  of 
romance  when  you  run  fifty  or  sixty  miles  of  it  and 
come  out  at  some  railroad  town  below  of  which  you 
have  never  heard.  Thus  to  explore  some  near-by, 
comfortable  stream  not  far  away,  not  hurrying  at  all, 
taking  your  own  time,  using  your  own  labor  and  not 
too  much  of  it,  going  light  and  neat  and  clean,  chang- 
ing your  camp  every  day  or  so  perhaps,  and  going  in 
only  for  enough  sport  to  give  you  food — nothing  is 
very  much  better  for  the  city  man.  A  week  of  this  is 
better  than  many  days  of  hurried  golf.  A  season  of 
it  is  better  than  any  amount  of  life  at  a  fashionable 
resort. 

As  a  fishing  boat,  the  canoe  cannot  be  called  a  suc- 
cess for  the  average  amateur,  although  of  course  it  is 
the  fishing  boat  of  the  wilderness.  Unless  the  canoe 
be  large  and  roomy,  and  handled  by  an  expert,  the 
amateur  would  better  do  his  fly-casting  or  bait-casting 
from  some  more  stable  platform.  Fine  canoes,  in  the 
so-called  lake  model,  broad  and  beamy,  provided  with 
a  little  keel,  a  socket  for  a  short  mast,  and  a  pair  of 
183 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

light  oars  for  upstream  work,  can  be  secured  in  weight 
quite  within  the  portage  capacities  of  two  men  of  no 
very  great  strength  or  experience.  A  good  light  out- 
fit in  a  boat  like  this  will  afford  a  pair  of  vacationists 
about  as  much  solid  fun  as  they  are  apt  to  get  else- 
where, no  matter  how  much  money  they  may  wish  to 
spend. 

A  popular  type  of  canoe  is  the  sixteen- foot  model, 
but  guides  who  have  to  do  much  portaging  will  cut 
the  size  down  to  fourteen  feet  by  choice,  although  this 
is  too  small  for  an  amateur  cruising  craft  with  fair 
outfit.  The  only  thing  to  be  urged  against  the  canoe 
and  canoeing  is  the  danger  of  it.  One  should  know 
how  to  swim,  but  above  all  should  know  how  to  be 
careful,  and  to  avoid  taking  risks  in  bad  water  or  in 
high  wind.  Some  cruisers  have  rigged  an  air  tank  in 
each  end,  so  that  the  canoe  will  not  sink.  Others  rely 
on  air  cushions  inflated  for  seats — rather  wabbly  and 
insecure  seats  they  are.  Some  sort  of  life-preserver  is 
a  good  thing  to  have  about.  I  don't  know  anything 
smoother  than  the  outside  skin  of  an  inverted  canoe. 
The  amateur,  suddenly  capsized,  is  mighty  apt  to  for- 
get about  the  fancy  stunts  he  has  seen  the  experts 
do  at  the  association  meet.  The  best  thing  to  do  is  to 
keep  the  canoe  right  side  up,  in  comfortable  water, 
and  under  no  risky  conditions. 

There  is  no  sport  which  has  had  more  care  ex- 
184 


YOUR  CANOE  AND  ITS  OUTFIT 

pended  on  it  by  professional  outfitters,  and  the  result 
of  all  this  has  been  that  the  canoeist  can  go  out  with 
the  handsomest,  nattiest  and  most  complete  outfit  pos- 
sible to  be  obtained  by  any  sportsman  whatever.  The 
boat  in  itself  has  lines  that  tell  of  ease,  strength,  grace 
and  self-confidence,  and,  moreover,  has  a  jaunty,  high- 
bred air,  one  of  quality  and  class,  which  endear  it  to 
the  heart  of  the  owner.  With  all  its  beauty,  it  is  not 
so  expensive,  and  once  you  have  your  outfit  there  is 
no  sort  of  sport  in  which  you  will  find  it  more  difficult 
to  spend  very  much  money.  Indeed,  part  of  the  game 
is  to  economize  in  everything — weight,  size,  expense. 
With  a  portable  canoe,  which  doesn't  mind  being  used, 
a  portable  camp  and  cook  outfit  which  never  becomes 
aggravating,  and  a  portable  girl  who  doesn't  mind  get- 
ting freckled — or  even  a  companion  like  himself — the 
plain  North  American  citizen  can  get  about  as  much 
out  of  everyday,  plain,  inexpensive  canoeing  as  he  can 
out  of  any  other  line  of  human  endeavor. 


IX 
HINTS  AND  POINTS   ON  TROUT-FISHING 


IX 
HINTS  AND   POINTS   ON  TROUT-FISHING 

THE  brook  trout  of  our  forefathers  is  still  in 
our  midst,  and  seems  to  be  in  some  sort  a 
permanent  institution.  Stock  a  stream  with 
trout  and  it  is  rather  difficult  to  fish  it  clean  by  fair 
methods,  for  few  fishes  are  better  able  to  fend  for 
themselves.  To  be  sure,  by  fair  means  or  foul  we 
manage  to  keep  the  supply  cut  down  pretty  low,  from 
New  England  to  the  Rockies.  Yet  sufficient  numbers 
remain,  and  probably  long  will  remain,  to  enlist  the 
activities  of  the  subtlest  intellects  of  the  land.  The 
study  of  the  brook  trout  is  something  which  never 
ends.  No  man  ever  has  mastered  it.  Every  time  you 
go  fishing  for  trout  you  learn  something,  and  your 
grandson  will  take  all  your  accumulated  wisdom  and 
learn  yet  something  more  each  time  he  goes  fishing. 

One  of  the  fallacies  about  trout-fishing  is  that  the 
worm  will  catch  more  trout  than  the  artificial  fly,  and 
that  said  worm  can  only  be  applied  successfully  by  a 
small  boy  with  a  broken  hat.  The  facts  do  not  bear 
out  all  the  ancient  stories.  It  is  true  that  the  bait- 
189 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

fishermen  can  reach  some  water  where  a  fly  cannot 
be  cast,  but  taking  the  average  bait-fisher  with  his 
short  rod,  short  boots  and  short  cast,  he  does  not 
cover  half  the  water  that  is  reached  by  the  well- 
equipped  fly-fisherman  with  high  waders  and  a  long 
line  well  handled.  I  have  known  bait-fishers  to  look 
at  the  work  of  a  skilled  fly-fisherman  and  remark, 
"It's  a  mighty  good  thing  for  the  trout  that  so  many 
of  us  don't  go  after  them  with  the  fly."  Certainly 
the  art  of  fly  casting  once  mastered,  there  are  few 
who  lay  it  down,  granted  any  option,  and  none  who 
do  so'  under  feasible  casting  conditions.  This  would 
not  be  the  case  if  fty  fishing  itself  were  not  productive 
of  results. 

The  trouble  with  most  fly-fishermen  is  that  they 
don't  know  how  to  fish.  It  is  impossible  to  learn  that 
from  any  book,  and  some  men  never  learn  it  at  all — 
they  do  not  have  the  faculty  of  close  observation. 
Moreover,  there  are  no  two  streams  which  require  to 
be  fished  alike.  Watch  the  man  who  knows  his  own 
river. 

Even  one  accustomed  to  fishing  in  a  certain  dis 
trict  may  occasionally  overlook  a  bet.  Last  spring  a 
brother  angler  showed  me  something  which  I  had 
learned  only  in  a  vague  way  before.  Of  course,  we 
all  know  in  a  general  way  that  trout  are  more  apt 
to  rise  well  on  a  freshet  than  in  low,  clear  water; 
190 


TROUT-FISHING 

but  that  supposes  that  the  trout  are  there  all  the  time, 
and  are  only  less  wary  when  the  water  is  discolored. 
In  this  case  we  fished  the  edge  of  a  half  dozen  little 
streams  which  were  running  ten  times  their  volume 
after  a  series  of  heavy  rains.  We  knew  there  were 
trout  in  them,  but  no  one  knew  there  were  such  trout 
as  we  took.  We  caught  a  good  basketful  apiece,  and 
they  were  larger  in  average  than  we  had  taken  in  the 
most  famous  rivers  of  that  vicinity.  The  puzzle  still 
remained  with  us  whether  these  trout  had  come  up 
from  the  larger  waters  on  the  freshet,  or  whether  they 
had  just  come  out  from  their  hiding-places  under 
the  banks  and  bushes,  unsettled,  or  perhaps  embold- 
ened, by  the  changed  action  of  the  water. 

The  new  school  of  trout-fishing  goes  in  the  automo- 
bile, and  in  a  day  fishes  not  one  stream  but  many. 
It  was  nothing  for  us  to  ride  out  thirty  miles  in  the 
morning  and  back  the  same  evening,  and  in  one  day 
we  fished  bits  of  eight  streams  that  I  remember.  The 
wonder  is  that  we  have  any  fish  or  game  left  since 
the  automobile  has  wiped  out  all  distance.  Certainly 
it  was  the  automobile  which  taught  us  this  last  notion 
about  the  habits  of  trout  in  little  streams.  They  came 
strong  and  decisively,  not  striking  short,  but  seem- 
ingly trying  to  gorge  the  fly.  High  water  must  be 
hay-making  time  for  the  trout  family.  The  next  day 
our  little  streams  were  beginning  to  fall,  and  presto! 
191 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

our  trout  began  to  shrink  in  size  and  to  become  wary 
as  ever.  The  cycle  of  twenty-four  hours  made  all  the 
difference  in  the  world. 

In  this  fishing  we  learned,  or  learned  more  posi- 
tively, the  virtue  of  another  wrinkle  in  trout-fishing. 
It  was  many  years  ago  that  an  old  friend  of  mine 
showed  me  how  to  tie  a  buck-tail  fly  which  really 
would  kill  trout,  and  big  ones,  often  where  other 
flies  would  fail.  I  have  long  classified  this  as  the 
most  deadly  fly  of  my  assortment,  and  in  high  and 
stained  water  it  certainly  makes  good. 

You  cannot  get  a  good  buck-tail  fly  from  any  dealer 
in  the  world,  so  far  as  I  know — they  invariably  cut 
off  the  hair  too  short  and  stiff.  My  instructor  showed 
me  how  to  tie  this  fly,  which  is  the  most  impossible 
looking  object  in  the  world  and  the  very  thing  which 
one  would  think  apt  to  cause  the  trout  to  flee  with 
shrieks  for  mercy.  We  always  tied  this  fly  on  hooks 
much  larger  than  those  appropriate  in  the  given  local- 
ity for  the  ordinary  artificial  fly.  For  instance,  where 
No.  8  was  the  usual  size,  we  used  No.  6,  or  much 
larger,  for  the  buck-tail.  Sometimes  we  tied  the 
body  out  of  deer  hair,  and  .made  the  wings  by  just 
bending  the  hairs  back  at  the  neck.  Sometimes  we 
made  the  body  and  the  wings  separate.  We  never 
used  any  hackles  unless  by  accident,  for  the  ruder  and 
coarser  the  fly  the  better  it  seemed  to  work.  Tfie 
192 


TROUT-FISHING 

"wings"  are  never  tied  upright  but  kept  low.  Some- 
times we  would  cut  the  wings  off  from  a  big  fly  with  a 
herl  body,  and  substitute  wings  made  of  bucktail. 
Usually  we  found  that  the  fly  was  better  if  made 
altogether  of  the  deer  hair.  It  does  not  seem  to  make 
much  difference  about  the  color.  We  came  rather  to 
fancy  a  white  body,  with  wings  mixed  of  gray  and 
white,  or  gray  and  brown.  •  Yet  an  enormous  buck- 
tail  which  I  tied  of  pure  white  hair — a  simply  pre- 
posterous looking  thing  it  was — took  some  of  our 
biggest  trout  in  the  high  water.  No  one  can  explain 
this  fancy  on  the  part  of  trout.  The  buck-tail  does  not 
look  like  any  insect  in  the  world.  Perhaps  the  trout 
takes  it  for  a  minnow,  or  perhaps  thinks  it  some 
sort  of  a  floating  larva  in  its  case.  Again  it  may 
strike  at  it  in  curiosity,  as  a  bass  will  at  a  spoon.  I 
think  that  the  deadliest  quality  of  this  fly  is  the  crawl 
of  the  long  hairs — the  ends  should  never  be  cropped 
off — as  it  moves  in  the  water.  Sometimes  I  do  not 
think  the  buck-tail  is  a  very  sportsmanlike  proposition, 
because,  in  order  to  make  it  most  effective,  you  should 
pull  it  up  or  across  stream  in  a  series  of  short  jerks, 
a  foot  or  two  at  once,  then  allowing  it  to  drop  back 
just  a  little.  In  this  way  it  seems  very  much  alive. 
Squirrel  tail  hair  is  no  good.  It  is  only  the  hair  of  the 
deer  tail  which  does  not  mat  down  in  the  water,  but 
which  spreads  out  and  seems  to  be  alive.  This  fly 

193 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

seems  to  work  in  any  country.  In  the  Arctic  Circle, 
three  thousand  miles  above  the  country  where  I  first 
saw  it  used,  fault  of  anything  better  I  made  a  rough 
buck-tail  by  flying  a  few  hairs  to  a  naked  hook.  The 
contrivance  kept  our  camp  in  trout  and  grayling  for 
some  weeks. 

The  brook  trout  has  the  reputation  of  being  the 
shyest  of  fishes,  but  this  is  a  matter  open  to  doubt. 
I  don't  think  a  trout  is  so  shy  as  a  black  bass,  al- 
though to  be  sure  he  usually  lives  in  a  more  restricted 
water  and  has  not  so  far  to  run  for  a  hiding-place. 
It  is  certain  that  on  a  freshet  the  habits  of  a  trout 
change  very  much.  In  our  little  trip  above  men- 
tioned, we  literally  caught  half-pound  trout  out  in  the 
grass  of  a  meadow  along  an  overflowed  stream,  and 
they  pounced  on  the  buck-tail  as  boldly  as  bass  do  on 
a  frog  in  twilight.  Their  habitual  caution  seemed 
quite  departed  from  them,  as  well  as  all  their  other 
usual  habits. 

Ordinarily,  however,  you  must  be  careful  in  ap- 
proaching your  trout.  There  are  two  schools  of  fish- 
ing, upstream  and  downstream,  not  to  mention  the 
wet-fly  and  the  dry-fly  schools  as  well.  The  English 
system  of  fishing  is  usually  upstream  and  with  the  dry 
fly,  whereas  the  American  angler  in  ninety  per  cent, 
of  cases  will  fish  wet-fly  and  downstream.  It  is  more 
comfortable  to  fish  downstream  and  you  certainly  can. 
194 


TROUT-FISHING 

kill  fish  in  that  way  if  you  know  how.  Your  course, 
with  or  against  the  grain  of  the  stream,  depends  on 
the  nature  of  the  country  where  you  are  fishing.  If 
you  are  on  sandy  bottom,  or  one  of  mud,  or  one  with 
occasional  mud  bars,  or  any  sort  of  detritus  which  will 
make  the  water  roily  when  stirred  up,  you  are  apt  to 
kill  far  more  trout  by  fishing  upstream — if  you  know 
how  to  fish  upstream.  If  you  have  never  tried  it  it  is 
quite  worth  your  while,  for  it  is  apt  to  teach  you  many 
new  things  about  trout.  You  can  fish  a  much  shorter 
line,  and  go  up  much  closer  on  your  fish,  and  mark 
them  much  better.  You  will  not  fish  so  much  water 
in  a  day  nor  so  comfortably,  but  slow,  sure  fishing  is 
what  puts  good  fish  in  the  basket.  And  when  you  fish 
upstream  you  will  see  more  brook  trout  than  you 
would  dream  existed  in  the  same  stream  fished 
down. 

As  to  dry-fly  fishing,  there  is  nothing  occult  about 
it.  Try  it  for  yourself,  fishing  upstream  with  rather 
a  short  line  and  going  very  slowly.  In  half  a  day  you 
can  learn  enough  about  it  to  become  interested. 

On  a  late  trip,  finding  myself  on  a  shallow,  wide 
stream  holding  a  great  many  small  trout,  I  put  in  an 
afternoon  in  experimenting  with  the  dry  fly.  I  had 
a  good  five-and-a-half -ounce  rod  and  a  tapered  line 
and  leader,  but  unfortunately  my  flies  were  not  ideal 
for  dry  work.  Most  of  them  were  stream-pattern 
195 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

snecks,  and  they  did  not  always  ride  through  with  the 
wings  cocked.  This  proved  no  insuperable  objection 
to  the  trout,  however,  regardless  of  what  the  books 
say  about  it.  In  all  likelihood  I  raised  three  times  as 
many  trout  fishing  upstream  with  the  floating  fly 
as  I  could  have  done  fishing  wet  and  downstream. 
Most  of  these  trout  were  small,  because  most  of  the 
large  ones  were  still  feeding  on  the  bottom,  eating 
larvae,  bark  cases  and  all.  That  quiet  afternoon,  how- 
ever, experimenting  with  the  trout,  made  a  very  de- 
lightful experience  which  you  can  make  your  own  al- 
most any  summer's  day  in  a  trout  country.  At  first 
the  upstream  fishing  may  not  seem  pleasant,  because 
you  are  continually  retrieving  your  line.  But  you 
learn  how  to  keep  the  slack  out  of  your  line,  how  to 
value  a  short  line,  and  how  to  go  up  on  your  fish. 

At  one  time,  by  accident,  I  blundered  into  the  foot 
of  a  deepish  pool  with  gravel  bottom.  At  first  a  num- 
ber of  trout  left  it,  but  as  I  stood  still  they  began  to 
settle  back  again,  and  I  could  see  a  couple  of  dozen 
good  ones  lying  not  more  than  ten  feet  from  my  feet. 
Making  as  slight  commotion  as  possible,  I  tossed  the 
fly  in  at  the  edge  of  the  pool  and  took  two  good  trout, 
which  had  to  be  led  directly  through  the  pool  to  the 
net.  Then  one  or  two  rose  short,  one  or  two  others 
just  flashed  up  a  little  bit — and  then  they  were  edu- 
cated. In  an  hour's  work,  during  which  I  did  not 
196 


TROUT-FISHING 

move  out  of  my  tracks,  I  could  not  get  another  rise 
from  those  trout,  although  I  changed  flies  a  dozen 
times.  They  lay  there,  not  ten  feet  from  me,  moving 
a  little  bit  now  and  then,  but  hanging  to  the  pool  until 
at  length  I  made  a  step  forward,  when  they  disap- 
peared in  a  flash.  Had  I  been  fishing  downstream 
I  never  would  have  seen  these  trout  at  all. 

If  you  fish  upstream  you  are  apt  to  do  better  in 
a  much  fished  water,  and  if  your  trout  are  accustomed 
to  the  pounding  of  heavy,  wet-fly  fishing,  it  will  be 
much  worth  your  while  to  try  the  floating  fly.  You 
can  soon  learn  the  knack  of  making  your  fly  float 
if  you  remember  just  one  basic  principle.  Of  course, 
you  know  how  to  flick  your  fly  back  and  forward 
once  or  twice  to  dry,  but  that  alone  will  not  make  it 
float.  Pick  out  an  imaginary  spot  in  the  air  about 
four  feet  above  the  spot  you  wish  your  fly  to  strike. 
Cast  at  that  imaginary  spot.  Your  fly  will  drop  down 
very  lightly  and  will  not  be  submerged. 

You  hear  a  great  deal  about  the  thistledown  quality 
of  a  fly,  supposedly  acquired  by  means  of  keeping 
your  elbow  fast  to  your  side  while  you  cast.  There 
is  nothing  much  more  fallacious  than  that  same  elbow- 
to-the-side  stunt.  It  is  all  right  for  a  beginner,  for 
it  teaches  him  that  it  is  his  rod  and  not  his  arm  which 
is  to  do  the  casting.  But  a  good  caster  is  like  a  good 
boxer,  he  can  deliver  a  punch  from  any  position.  In 
197 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

actual  practice  most  of  us  violate  the  conventional 
forty-five  degrees  rule,  and  slam  a  rod  pretty  welt 
in  front  of  us  in  the  forward  cast.  The  books  would 
call  this  contempt  of  court  in  dry-fly  fishing,  but  let 
us  go  softly  as  to  that.  You  may  bring  your  rod 
clear  down  parallel  with  the  water  and  still  deliver  a 
good  dry  fly,  if  you  know  how!  Just  keep  your  eye 
on  that  imaginary  spot  above  the  water  and  let  your 
line  extend  to  that  and  no  farther.  The  fly  will  drop 
gently,  in  spite  of  all  your  violated  rules. 

The  real  secret  of  any  trout-fishing,  and  more  espe- 
cially wet-fly  fishing  down  a  stream  is  to  lay  a  straight 
line.  If  you  will  watch  most  casters  you  will  find  that 
the  line  drops  in  a  series  of  curves,  mussing  up  the 
water.  This  will  not  always  take  trout  when  they  are 
shy.  The  straight  line  is  the  deadly  one,  because  when 
a  trout  strikes  at  the  fly  you  are  more  apt  to  fasten 
him.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  about  half  the  trout  which 
you  think  you  strike  in  reality  hook  themselves.  They 
will  not  do  this  on  a  floating  fly  if  you  are  fishing  up- 
stream, and  you  are  sure  to  miss  very  many  more 
strikes  in  that  kind  of  fishing  than  when  you  are 
at  the  usual  game  of  chuck-and-chance-it  downstream. 

As  to  this  thistledown  business  in  fly  fishing,  it  is 

not  always  necessary.     A  trout  is  half  shy  and  half 

bold,  he  is  scared  but  he  has  to  make  his  living.    You 

can  slam  a  big  buck-tail  down  on  the  water  in  front 

198 


TROUT-FISHING 

of  a  trout  just  as  you  can  a  big  frog  in  front  of  a 
bass,  and  he  will  run  at  it  and  not  away  from  it.  But 
the  way  to  do  that  is  to  let  him  see  as  little  of  you  and 
your  line  as  possible.  In  some  fishing,  however,  you 
don't  want  to  be  too  quiet. 

I  once  fished  with  a  chap  who  had  a  sort  of  style 
of  his  own  in  trout-fishing.  When  he  saw  a  good  log 
or  rock  where  he  thought  trout  was  hiding,  he  would 
flick  at  the  water  over  it  a  half  dozen  times  or  so, 
making  considerable  fuss  on  the  water,  and  not  in  the 
least  casting  a  light  fly.  Then  he  would  drop  the  fly 
just  above  and  let  it  float  down.  In  very  many  cases 
he  would  thus  get  his  trout.  He  called  it  teasing  the 
trout  into  striking.  It  was  the  opposite  of  what  you 
would  call  good  trout-fishing,  but  it  worked.  I  am 
inclined  to  think  that  it  did  anger  a  trout  so  that 
he  struck  just  out  of  annoyance.  Some  streams  are 
not  suitable  for  this  sort  of  fishing,  but  in  hundreds 
of  cases  I  have  tried  this  trout-teasing  with  success. 
Once  I  stood  casting  a  line  not  over  fifteen  feet  and 
counted  over  forty  casts  before  at  last  I  raised  a  trout 
and  hooked  him,  every  cast  cutting  the  water  a  little 
bit.  That  trout  certainly  was  warned,  yet  it  came  out 
at  last.  You  can't  tell  all  about  trout-fishing  the  first 
day  you  fish.  I  am  inclined  to  believe,  however,  that 
the  real  secret  of  this  style  is  the  final  floating  down 
of  the  dry  fly  over  the  place  where  the  water  has  been 
199 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

disturbed.  You  might  amuse  yourself  some  time  by 
trying  this.  It  is  best  done  on  a  stream  full  of  sunken 
logs  or  other  good  hiding-places. 

Alore  trout  are  lost  by  bad  wading  than  by  bad 
casting.  Of  course,  if  you  do  not  know  your  stream 
you  may  blunder  into  the  good  water,  but  if  you  are 
approaching  a  hole  where  you  know  there  are  some 
trout,  the  best  way  is  to  stand  perfectly  still  in  your 
chosen  position  for  four  or  five  minutes  before  you 
make  a  move.  Then  cast  quietly  as  you  can.  The 
trout  seem  to  think  you  are  a  stump,  or  something 
of  the  kind.  I  have  often  wondered  if  they  know 
domestic  animals  from  men.  Usually  we  think  that 
if  a  man  wades  through  a  trout  hole  the  trout  will  not 
rise  again  for  a  long  time.  Not  long  ago  a  friend 
and  myself  stood  and  watched  three  or  four  cows 
wade  deliberately  through  a  trout  hole  which  we  in- 
tended to  fish.  We  thought  that  settled  the  matter, 
but  to  prove  it  began  to  cast  as  soon  as  the  cows 
were  out  of  the  way,  and  we  took  a  couple  of  good 
trout.  I  presume  they  were  used  to  seeing  cows,  but 
I  don't  know  and,  in  short,  no  one  knows  very  much 
about  what  trout  will  or  will  not  do. 

Another  fault  almost  as  bad  as  too  rapid  fishing  is 

the  use  of  too  long  a  line.    Of  course,  part  of  the  fun 

in  trout-fishing  is  to  cast,  and  that  is  how  we  learn 

to  cast,  but  for  really  putting  trout  in  the  basket  a 

200 


TROUT-FISHING 

slow  foot  and  a  short  line  are  better.  This  means, 
unless  you  are  very  careful,  that  you  will  not  always 
cast  a  gentle  line,  or  a  straight  one.  In  all  likelihood 
you  will  be  using  too  much  force  for  so  short  a  line, 
especially  if  you  are  using  a  good  modern,  quick- 
acting,  split  bamboo  rod.  Most  of  the  action  of  these 
modern  rods  is  up  at  the  tip,  and  if  you  put  too  much 
force  into  them  they  overshoot.  I  have  one  splendid, 
powerful  rod  which  is  capable  of  laying  out  all  sorts 
of  line,  and  which  takes  a  very  heavy  line  to  make 
it  begin  to  act.  Every  day  I  fish  that  rod  I  have 
to  learn  it  over  again.  Unless  humored,  it  is  the 
nastiest  rod  one  ever  saw,  and  lays  a  miserabfe, 
wrinkled  line.  The  fact  is,  it  requires  hardly  more 
than  a  gentle  pointing  forward  of  the  rod  to  pitch 
its  line  a  good  fishing  distance  and  lay  it  straight. 
Some  rods  you  have  to  humor,  and  this  is  one  of  them. 
Of  course,  what  it  craves  is  a  heavy  tapered  line  and 
a  reach  of  sixty  feet  or  more.  Study  your  own  rod, 
therefore,  and  let  your  line  balance  it,  being  just 
heavy  enough  to  induce  it  to  lay  a  straight,  comfort- 
able line,  a  good  fishing  distance.  You  will  catch 
abundance  of  trout  downstream  at  thirty  feet,  and 
upstream  at  twenty  feet — or  yes,  even  at  ten  feet, 
as  I  can  testify!  All  of  which  is  somewhat  confound- 
ing to  the  doctors,  perhaps,  but  is  easily  capable  of 
proof  at  your  own  hands. 
201 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

Your  tackle  salesman  very  probably  will  want  you 
to  buy  a  tapered  line.  It  may  or  may  not  be  best  for 
you.  In  dry-fly  fishing  it  is  fine,  for  then  you  lay 
out  about  nine  feet  of  tapered  leader  and  not  much 
more  than  that  of  tapered  line,  and  both  will  float, 
especially  if  you  keep  your  line  well  greased  with 
deer  fat.  But  if  you  have  a  long  taper  on  your  line 
and  are  fishing  rather  a  stiffish  rod,  you  will  not  find 
it  to  handle  very  well,  because  the  weight  will  not 
be  sufficient  to  set  your  rod  in  action.  For  ordinary 
fishing  the  level  line,  as  it  is  called,  is  apt  to  be  more 
comfortable,  and  many  an  angler  has  deliberately  cut 
off  the  tapered  part  of  an  expensive  line,  because  he 
could  not  handle  it  in  the  wind. 

This  brings  us  to  yet  another  mooted  point  in  trout- 
fishing.  We  are  taught  by  the  books  to  use  a  nine- 
foot  leader,  and  taught  by  the  tackle  salesman  to  have 
that  leader  tapered  to  a  point  of  fine-drawn  gut.  Now 
take  that  fine  leader  and  a  bit  of  tapered  line  back  of 
it  and  try  to  fish  it  in  the  wind,  especially  with  two 
or  three  flies  attached.  You  are  tangled  up  all  the 
time,  and  can't  get  anywhere,  and  can't  lay  a  straight, 
comfortable  line.  Your  equipment  has  defeated  your 
purpose.  Upon  the  other  hand,  if  you  fish  a  leader 
six,  five  or  four  feet  long,  of  medium  gut,  and  per- 
haps a  single-eyed  fly  only,  backed  by  a  level  line  of 
weight  appropriate  to  your  rod,  you  would  find  your- 
202 


TROUT-FISHING 

self  master  of  existing  conditions.  You  could  drive 
your  fly  into  the  wind,  could  cast  accurately,  and  could 
keep  your  line  straight  on  the  water.  Sometimes  I 
think  that  any  man  with  a  short  and  rather  stout 
leader  and  a  buck-tail  fly  and  a  short  line  can  go  out 
and  skin  any  man  who  fishes  three  flies  on  light  gut 
and  tapered  lines. 

This,  of  course,  is  heresy,  and  it  will  not  work  on 
very  bright  or  very  much  fished  waters,  perhaps.  It 
will  often  work  on  waters  which  have  been  fished 
steadily  for  fifty  years.  You  can  fish  a  buck-tail  fly 
with  a  two-foot  leader,  or  with  scarcely  any  leader  at 
all,  and  take  trout  with  it.  With  flies  of  less  compel- 
ling quality  it  is  better  to  be  a  little  longer  and  a  little 
lighter  with  our  tackle.  You  yourself,  none  the  less, 
will  find  great  interest  in  experimenting  along  both 
extremes.  Your  results  will  leave  it  difficult  to  lay 
down  any  hard  and  fast  rule  about  trout. 

A  great  many  fishermen  cling  to  the  old  snelled 
hook  and  to  the  leader  with  two  or  three  flies  attached. 
The  tendency  today  is  towards  the  single-eyed  fly. 
You  can  carry  many  more  of  the  eyed  flies  in  a  book, 
and  they  don't  tangle  up,  and  they  are  not  lost  by 
the  gut  breaking  off  at  the  head.  Moreover,  you  can 
cast  one  fly  more  accurately  than  you  can  two  or  three. 
Beware  the  man  with  the  single  fly  and  the  short 
leader  and  straight  line.  He  may  cause  you  to  open 
203 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

your  basket  lid  several  times  during  the  afternoon 
to  estimate  how  you  are  coming  along.  Most  fisher- 
men, or  at  least  many  even  today,  use  a  dropper,  or 
two  droppers,  on  the  cast.  There  is  this  to  be  said 
in  favor  of  it,  that  the  hand  fly  is  more  apt  to  play 
on  the  surface  of  the  water.  In  some  streams  and 
at  some  seasons  it  is  the  surface  fly  which  kills  trout. 

A  friend  of  mine,  well  seized  of  this  latter  point  in 
trout  lore,  invented  a  system  of  droppers  peculiar  to 
himself  and  it  seems  to  work  very  well.  He  hangs 
his  hand  fly,  or  closest  dropper,  on  a  piece  of  gut  at 
least  eighteen  inches  long,  sometimes  attaching  this 
at  the  leader  knot.  As  he  is  rather  a  tall  man  and 
uses  a  ten-foot  rod,  this  arrangement  keeps  this  hand 
fly  dibbling  and  dabbling  on  the  top  of  the  water  as 
he  retrieves.  He  finds  that  this  fly  kills  a  great  many 
of  his  trout.  Of  course,  this  long  dropper  snell  is 
always  getting  mixed  up  with  the  leader.  I  have 
tried  that,  but  find  that  these  mussed-up  droppers  in- 
cline me  more  and  more  to  stick  to  the  single  fly  on 
a  medium  weight  leader  in  practical  fishing.  Each  to 
his  taste. 

This  same  gentleman  taught  me  a  wrinkle  in 
tackle  which  never  occurred  to  me  before.  Of  course, 
you  know  how  to  do  two  or  three  different  leader 
knots,  for  fastening  your  lines  to  the  leader  loop. 
Some  men  even  whip  a  gut  loop  to  the  end  of  the  line, 
204 


TROUT-FISHING 

leaving  it  there  permanently,  so  that  there  shall  be  no 
knot  to  muss  up  the  water.  My  friend's  scheme  beats 
that.  Of  course,  you  know  the  water  knot,  by  which 
you  fasten  two  strands  of  gut  together.  It  never  slips, 
even  though  you  cut  the  ends  close.  This  idea  is 
simply  the  use  of  the  water  knot  in  joining  the  leader 
and  the  line.  They  hold  as  well  as  two  pieces  of  gut, 
and  you  can  cut  the  ends  close  as  you  please.  The 
total  sacrifice  of  line  in  a  season  is  not  so  much,  and 
by  the  use  of  this  knot  your  line  and  leader  are  prac- 
tically continuous. 

And  yet  this  same  ingenious  and  efficient  trout- 
fisherman  does  not  know  how  to  carry  his  landing-net. 
He  hangs  it,  as  perhaps  you  do  yours,  over  the 
shoulder  on  a  rubber  cord.  That  means  that  the  net 
swings  just  low  enough  to  catch  in  every  piece  of 
brush  he  passes,  and  to  swing  them  between  his  legs 
as  he  wades.  It  is  the  way  most  trout-fishermen 
carry  their  nets,  and  it  is  the  worst  way  imaginable. 
A  better  way  would  be  to  shove  the  net  into  the  pocket 
of  a  shooting-coat — which  makes  a  good  fishing-jacket 
also.  There  are  some  nets  which  are  carried  in  a 
cylinder  attached  to  a  strap  fastening  over  the 
shoulder.  As  a  matter  of  fact  you  don't  really  need 
a  landing-net  very  much  in  ordinary  trout-fishing 
where  the  trout  run  under  a  pound.  If  you  must 
have  one,  get  a  neat,  oval  one  with  a  short  handle. 
205 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

Fix  a  neat  leather  loop  at  the  end  of  the  bow  and 
cut  a  buttonhole  in  it.  Fix  a  bachelor's  button, 
clamped  on  at  the  back  of  the  neck  of  your  shooting- 
coat.  Hang  the  net  on  that.  It  will  always  be  ready 
and  always  out  of  the  way.  The  best  landing-net  I 
ever  saw  was  a  simple  bow  which  had  a  telescopic 
handle  of  metal.  It  was  a  trifle  heavy  for  wading, 
however,  and  in  wading  you  don't  really  need  a  long- 
handled  net.  I  don't  think  the  handle  on  my  landing- 
net  is  a  foot  long,  yet  I  find  it  will  reach  good  trout 
on  the  rapids,  and  that  is  all  you  need. 

Much  of  your  comfort  in  trout-fishing  will  depend 
on  your  waders.  You  can  get  imported  waders  now 
about  two  and  a  half  pounds  in  weight.  They  will  last 
one  season,  perhaps  longer,  although  not  so  durable 
as  the  heavier  material.  Such  waders  you  can  put 
into  your  coat  pocket.  Of  course,  you  put  on  wool 
stockings  and  some  sort  of  wading  shoes  over  them. 
An  extra  pair  of  stockings  is  a  good  thing  to  have 
along  if  you  have  a  long  walk  at  the  close  of  the  day's 
fishing.  I  usually  carry  along  a  pair  of  moccasins  in 
my  coat  pocket,  and  carry  home  the  waders  and  wad- 
ing shoes  on  my  back.  It  is  very  hard  to  walk  in 
the  waders  themselves,  and  it  is  not  good  for  the 
waders,  as  they  get  chafed,  and  so  soon  learn  how  to 
leak.  Most  of  the  American  waders  are  heavy  and 
clumsy,  being  merely  heavy  rubber  boots  with  exten- 
206 


TROUT-FISHING 

sion  tops.  The  English  goods  are  better  than  ours 
in  this  respect.  You  can  get  good  English  waders 
with  light  tops  and  leather  feet  and  felt  soles,  and 
these  make  equipment  very  difficult  to  beat  for  the 
stream  fisherman. 

The  trout-fisherman's  reel  is  not  very  important, 
and  a  simple  click  is  good  enough.  My  ingenious 
friend  above-mentioned  always  goes  trout-fishing  with 
a  bass  casting-reel  and  multiplier.  Of  course,  he  ought 
to  be  imprisoned  for  that.  On  the  other  hand,  he  al- 
ways says  that  I  ought  to  be  imprisoned  because  I 
fancy  a  large-barrelled  single-action  click  reel,  with  a 
big  agate  ring  in  front,  made  in  England  and  not 
in  the  United  States.  In  extenuation  I  plead  that  next 
year  I  shall  probably  have  two  or  three  more  new 
reels,  just  as  you  will  yourself.  As  wide  a  divergency 
will  be  found  as  to  rods.  My  friend  usually  carries 
a  rod  or  so  extra  along  in  case  of  breakage,  and  al- 
though he  has  more  money  than  a  dog  could  jump 
over,  he  professes  that  thirty  dollars  is  too  much  for 
any  fly  rod.  If  my  own  rods  were  not  better  than  his, 
as  I  tell  him  very  comfortably,  I  could  not  enjoy  fish- 
ing. In  general,  as  you  need  not  be  reminded,  there 
is  no  accounting  for  trout  and  their  vagaries,  and  there 
is  no  accounting  for  the  vagaries  of  the  men  who  pur- 
sue them.  In  combination  the  two  make  joy  peren- 
nial. Join  these  ranks  and  you  never  will  depart 
207 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

therefrom.  Having  joined,  one  word  may  be  of  use 
to  you — be  practical  and  simple  in  your  trout-fishing, 
as  in  all  other  activities,  and  don't  believe  everything 
you  read  in  the  papers.  Use  your  own  judgment 
in  buying  stocks  or  buying  rods.  Require  to  be 
shown;  experiment,  and  yet  again  experiment,  for  in 
that  way  lies  knowledge  alike  for  yourself  and  for 
your  friends. 


X 

YOUR  BIRD  DOG:    HOW  TO  USE  HIM 


X 

YOUR  BIRD  DOG:    HOW  TO  USE  HIM 

AMONG  the  curiosities  of  literature  is  the  fact 
that  there  seems  to  be  perennial  demand 
for  books  on  dog-training.  Many  a  mute, 
inglorious  Milton  of  whom  you  never  heard  has  writ- 
ten a  simple  and  unpretentious  book  on  dog-breaking 
which  has  netted  him  in  royalties  more  than  most 
authors  can  claim  for  their  best  novels.  Everybody 
owns  a  dog  or  is  interested  in  a  dog  or  ought  to  be. 
There  are  physicians  who  minister  to  dogs,  profes- 
sors who  educate  them,  guides  and  counselors  who 
tell  what  to  do  with  them.  In  case  you  own  a  dog-^ 
and,  of  course,  you  do — you  very  probably  have 
bought  some  book  about  dogs  or  are  intending  to 
buy  such  a  book  some  day.  These  things  are  true, 
although  there  is  less  use  for  a  bird  dog  today  than 
once  was  the  case  in  this  country. 

Whatever  may  be  the  need  of  bird  dogs  today,  we 

have  more  of  them  now  than  ever  before,  even  though 

we  have  fewer  birds,  and  not  only  the  number,  but 

the  value,  of  the  bird  dogs  of  today  far  surpasses  the 

211 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

best  records  of  the  halcyon  time  when  everyone  had 
a  bird  dog  and  everyone  with  little  trouble  or  expense 
could  find  good  shooting  over  him.  Today  a  good 
bird  dog  is  worth  as  much  as  a  race-horse — and  is 
handled  much  like  one. 

Bench  shows  and  field  trials  have  changed  the  looks, 
stature  and  qualifications  of  the  dog  of  modern  times. 
The  bird  dog  of  today  is  a  commercialized  product. 
His  price,  if  not  his  value,  has  increased.  He  is 
an  artificial  proposition,  like  the  three-dollar  shoe  or 
the  buffet  flat  or  the  moving-picture  show.  Perhaps 
he  is  old  at  five  or  six  years  today,  but  even  so  he 
may  have  paid  his  way  very  well  on  a  commercial 
basis,  more  especially  if  he  has  been  fortunate  enough 
to  win  some  of  the  largest  stakes  in  the  field  or  on 
the  bench. 

The  tendency  of  human  nature  to  run  after  suc- 
cess— the  craze  for  successful  or  fashionable  blood 
in  a  strain  of  setters  or  pointers — has  left  its  imprint 
on  most  of  the  bird  dogs  of  today.  A  great  many  of 
them  are  overbred,  overnervous,  too  much  accentu- 
ated. In  dog  history  our  leading  strains  date  back  to 
certain  great  individuals  who  lived  at  rather  a  remote 
time  in  the  past.  Perhaps  in  the  future  we  may  by 
accident  develop  some  such  great  individuals,  some 
William  the  Conquerors  in  setters,  some  Charlemagnes 
in  pointers,  which  will  give  history  a  new  starting- 
212 


YOUR  BIRD  DOG 

point.  Just  at  present,  however,  that  does  not  seem 
especially  probable. 

You  must  accept  your  bird  dog  today  as  you  find 
him,  a  creature  of  changed  conditions,  and  one  which 
must  be  fairly  well  adapted  to  existing  conditions, 
else  he  himself  would  not  exist.  Your  bird  dog  of  to- 
day is  not  the  grand,  upstanding,  heavily  feathered 
specimen  of  your  father's  or  your  grandfather's 
choice.  He  is  apt  to  be  a  smallish  fellow,  not  two- 
thirds  the  weight  he  would  have  had  forty  years  ago. 
His  coat  is  light,  his  skin  very  thin  and  delicate.  He  is 
alert,  keyed-up,  eager.  He  can  go  perhaps  half  the 
day,  perhaps  two  or  three  hours,  before  you  need 
to  replace  him  with  another  dog.  Perhaps  his  sire  or 
grands  ire,  which  was  worth  two  or  three  thousand 
dollars  because  of  certain  fame,  won  that  fame  in  a 
test  of  twenty  minutes  or  so  of  top-speed  work  against 
some  other  dog  almost  as  fast  and  nervous.  Of  course, 
the  real  test  between  two  dogs  ought  to  be  a  matter 
of  a  week's  work.  Our  old  dogs  could  hunt  day 
by  day  as  long  as  we  wanted  to  hunt.  Once  in  a 
while  you  will  find  such  a  dog  today ;  but  he  is  not  apt 
to  have  a  great  deal  of  speed.  Perhaps  his  nose  will 
not  be  especially  keen,  either — he  may  have  somewhere 
an  outcross  of  cold  blood  in  his  ancestry. 

What  does  your  good,  modern  bird  dog  cost  you? 
Perhaps  somewhere  around  one  hundred  and  fifty 
213 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

dollars,  on  a  minimum  basis  if  you  are  a  city  man 
and  have  to  hire  him  trained.  To  be  sure,  as  good 
dogs  as  you  ever  saw  are  bought  for  forty  or  fifty 
dollars  already  trained.  The  best  dog  I  ever  owned 
cost  me  twenty-five  dollars  and  would  not  have  been 
sold  at  five  hundred  dollars  or  a  thousand  dollars — 
although  it  was  poisoned  within  the  second  year 
after  purchase.  There  was  a  natural  bird  dog  which 
really  needed  very  little  training.  It  was  of  wholly 
unknown  pedigree  and  was  found  on  a  farm — owned 
by  an  honest  farmer  who  had  annexed  it  from  a  pass- 
ing wagon.  Perhaps  in  your  own  experience  you  have 
been  fortunate  enough  to  get  a  good  dog  at  a  rea- 
sonable price.  But  usually  you  pay  an  unreasonable 
price  for  a  half  dozen  dogs  and  do  not  turn  out  one 
good  one  from  the  lot.  The  reason  for  this  is  that 
game  is  not  so  generally  distributed  today,  dogs  are 
not  so  widely  owned,  and  they  do  not  get  so  general 
a  use  in  actual  field  work. 

There  are  a  great  many  sportsmen  who  live  in 
cities  where  they  are  unable  even  to  keep  a  bird  dog, 
much  less  train  one.  The  city  man  must  send  his  dog 
to  a  trainer  for  education.  The  latter  will  charge 
him  about  one  dollar  a  week  for  boarding  the  dog. 
The  training  fees  will  run  from  twenty-five  dollars 
up  to  a  couple  of  hundred.  Very  often  the  trainer 
gives  his  dog  more  board  than  he  does  work.  Even 
214 


YOUR  BIRD  DOG 

so,  figure  that  he  keeps  your  puppy  for  you  a  couple 
of  years,  you  will  have  to  pay  him  around  one  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars  in  return  for  something  which  is 
wholly  problematical.  If  nature  has  been  very  kind 
to  the  dog,  he  may  be  developed  into  a  shooting-dog 
at  a  cost  of  somewhere  between  one  hundred  and  two 
hundred  dollars.  In  the  average  human  experience, 
however,  scarcely  one  dog  out  of  a  half  dozen  proves 
to  be  worth  developing — something  goes  wrong  with 
him  and  he  rarely  ever  becomes  a  good  shooting-dog. 
Take  into  consideration  the  expense  of  your  failures 
and  perhaps  the  average  city  sportsman  will  find  that 
his  first  practical  shooting-dog  has  cost  him  some- 
where between  five  hundred  and  one  thousand  dollars 
— about  as  much  as  a  motor  car.  It  looks  discourag- 
ing, but  there  is  always  this  great  factor  in  quest 
of  the  golden  dog,  that  when  you  do  get  him  you 
would  not  trade  him  for  any  limousine  on  earth. 
The  figures  of  expense  in  his  pursuit  and  his  use  are 
things  to  be  concealed  from  Friend  Wife. 

Granted  good  blood  for  your  dog,  good  health,  and 
a  naturally  good  nose,  his  value  depends  on  the  trainer 
who  handles  him  for  the  first  couple  of  years  of  his 
life.  There  are  good  dog-trainers ;  but  there  are  many 
more  who  are  wholly  unreliable.  Be  careful  in  the 
selection  of  your  trainer.  Go  to  his  place  and  see 
how  his  dogs  look.  Have  a  day's  shooting  with  him 
215 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

and  note  how  he  handles  his  dogs.  All  too  often  a 
dog  of  little  promise  is  left  in  the  feeding  yard.  If 
fortune  gives  the  trainer  in  his  string  of  inmates  one 
dog  of  much  promise,  he  is  very  apt  to  develop  this 
dog  at  the  expense  of  the  others,  especially  if  there 
is  an  opportunity  to  enter  this  dog  in  field  trials  with 
his  handler  in  on  a  division  of  the  money.  In  general, 
if  you  want  a  shooting-dog  of  your  own,  don't  send 
him  to  any  man  who  trains  dogs  for  field  trial  pur- 
poses. In  general  also,  pick  out  a  trainer  who  has  a 
wife  or  daughter  who  will  take  a  hand  in  looking  after 
the  welfare  of  the  dogs.  These  things,  you  will  ob- 
serve, narrow  down  your  choice  of  dog-trainers  very 
much.  None  the  less  they  explain  the  scarcity  of  good 
shooting-dogs  today. 

The  tricky  and  dishonest  dog-trainer  is,  happily, 
less  numerous  than  the  shiftless  and  inefficient  one. 
Such  a  man  may  be  a  shrewd  handler,  but  also  be  a 
shrewd  business  man.  You  send  him  your  valuable 
dog  to  keep  for  you  after  the  end  of  the  shooting 
season.  A  month  or  so  disappears  and  you  get  a  let- 
ter from  the  tricky  trainer,  saying  that  unfortunately 
your  dog  has  been  run  over  by  a  railroad  train.  In 
that  case,  it  is  just  as  well  to  ask  the  trainer  to  send 
you  the  hide  of  the  dog — don't  accept  the  collar. 
Cases  have  been  known  where  valuable  dogs  were  sold 
by  trainers,  who  reported  them  back  as  dead. 
216 


YOUR  BIRD  DOG 

Of  course,  if  you  live  in  a  shooting  country,  or  in 
a  small  community,  where  you  have  your  own  home 
and  can  keep  your  own  dog,  the  expense  of  owning 
bird  dogs  is  much  lessened  and  the  pleasure  much  in- 
creased. You  can  very  often  get  a  good  bird  dog 
puppy,  with  or  without  pedigree,  for  ten,  fifteen  or 
twenty  dollars.  The  great  delight  will  be  the  training 
which  you  yourself  can  give  him.  That  is  better 
than  buying  a  dog  alleged  to  be  trained.  The  last 
five  dogs  purchased  by  myself  cost,  respectively, 
twenty-five,  fifty,  two  hundred,  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five,  and  seventy-five  dollars.  Of  these  only 
the  first  and  last  amounted  to  anything.  Number  two 
was  with  difficulty  given  away  after  one  day's  trial. 
Number  three  was  a  case  of  delivery  of  a  worthless 
dog  instead  of  one  which  a  year  earlier  had  been 
seen  to  be  an  excellent  performer  in  the  field.  Num- 
ber four  just  didn't  have  it  in  him.  Number  one  was 
the  unknown  earlier  mentioned  as  a  natural  bird  dog. 
Number  five  is  not  for  sale  at  any  price.  A  dog  of 
good  blood,  he  cost  his  owner  more  than  three  hun- 
dred dollars  in  training  fees.  Happily  he  is  a  fine 
example  of  what  is  known  as  a  gentleman's  shoot- 
ing-dog; that  is  to  say,  he  is  fast,  can  go  as  long 
as  his  owner  likes,  has  a  grand  nose,  an  instinct  for 
finding  birds,  an  education  which  leaves  him  docile 
and  well  in  hand. 

217 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

Suppose  that  you  have  gotten  one  good  dog  out  of 
your  six  last  efforts.  What  is  he  apt  to  be  today,  pro- 
vided that  he  is  a  typical  product  of  a  good  strain? 
He  is  apt  to  be  compact,  small,  nervous,  thin-skinned, 
yet  showing  blood  in  his  lines  and  intelligence  in  his 
face.  He'll  have  life  and  quality  about  him,  like  any 
thoroughbred.  Do  not  purchase  your  dog  until  you 
have  seen  him  work.  In  my  own  case  I  took  out  my 
last  acquisition  for  his  first  trial  on  prairie  chickens — • 
a  bird  he  had  never  seen.  He  went  to  work  like  a 
veteran,  pointing  to  a  covey  high-headed  at  one  hun- 
dred yards.  "Some  class  about  that !"  exclaimed  my 
shooting  friend.  Next  the  dog  proved  able  to  handle 
ruffed  grouse  in  thick  cover — a  far  more  difficult 
proposition.  "More  class,"  said  my  friend.  The  dog, 
a  stranger  to  us  both  and  we  both  strangers  to  him, 
went  on  about  his  work  and  found  a  dozen  coveys 
of  quail  that  day.  This  was  trial  enough  for  any  dog. 
And  when  we  lost  him  in  a  bit  of  cover,  and,  after 
whistling  and  shouting  in  vain  for  five  minutes,  at 
last  discovered  him  on  a  dead  point,  deaf  to  all  the 
world,  and  gloating  over  his  last  covey  of  quail — • 
we  knew  we  had  that  sought  for  treasure,  a  real  shoot- 
ing-dog. Such  a  dog,  any  sportsman  would  agree,  is 
worth  almost  any  kind  of  money.  The  price  of  such 
a  dog  is  a  varying  thing — not  in  the  least  representa- 
tive of  value  either  way. 

218 


YOUR  BIRD  DOG 

Now,  supposing  that  you  had  such  a  dog,  the  prod- 
uct of  six  efforts  to  get  a  bird  dog,  your  compact, 
speedy  little  fellow  would  go  into  a  buggy  or  a  motor 
car  comfortably.  Moreover,  since  he  has  been  shipped 
here  and  there  through  cities  in  his  various  travels 
to  suit  the  convenience  of  his  owner  or  his  trainer, 
he  will  jump  into  a  taxi  promptly  and  curl  down  on 
the  seat.  Being  a  good  traveler,  he  will  lie  down  in 
the  baggage  car  on  a  railway  journey  and  not  tug  at 
his  chain  and  bark  and  make  the  baggage  man  more 
unhappy  than  he  is.  In  short,  he  is  a  practical  dog  for 
conditions  of  sport  as  you  must  practise  it. 

Next,  your  dog  has  speed.  He  came  from  a  family 
that  had  speed.  In  short,  he  must  have  speed  today, 
because  coveys  of  birds  are  less  easily  found  than  once 
was  the  case  and  he  must  cover  more  country  in  order 
to  find  them.  He  is,  therefore,  a  practical  proposition. 
For  the  sake  of  his  speed  and  gameness  a  half  day  at 
a  time,  you  are  willing  to  sacrifice  a  little  bit  of  his 
ability  to  go  throughout  a  week  of  hard  travel — the 
fastest  dogs  cannot  travel  a  week  through  nowadays. 

If  your  dog  has  been  well  broken,  and  has  asso- 
ciated with  decent  people,  he  is  strictly  businesslike. 
At  the  end  of  his  day's  work  he  gets  his  dinner  and  his 
drink  and  curls  up  to  sleep.  He  doesn't  bark  and  nose 
around  the  camp  table  and  make  himself  obnoxious. 
He  is  quite  companionable.  Yet  he  is  strictly  business. 
219 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

This  is  what  we  call  the  "old-fashioned"  sort  of  dog, 
and  such  a  dog,  who  tends  to  his  own  knitting  and 
lets  the  others  do  the  prowling  around,  is  nearly 
always  popular  among  shooters. 

A  dog  of  such  independent  character  will  perhaps 
seem  to  you  at  first  a  trifle  aloof  and  indifferent  of 
spirit.  Why  should  he  not  be?  Another  man  has 
trained  him  and  fed  him.  You  yourself  have  not  seen 
him  before  the  time  when  you  took  him  out  to  hunt — 
he  does  not  know  you  as  his  master.  That  is  the 
great  trouble  for  the  city  sportsman — some  other  man 
receives  the  best  affection  of  the  dog  which  he  owns 
as  a  piece  of  property  and  which  he  rarely  sees. 

Now,  any  good  dog  wants  one  master  and  no  more. 
A  setter  is  perhaps  more  apt  to  be  faithful  to  one  man 
than  the  pointer — the  latter  breed  is  full  of  hunt  and 
will  follow  any  man  with  a  gun.  Yet  absolutely  the 
best  pointer  I  ever  knew  would  hunt  with  no  one  but 
her  master.  And  absolutely  the  best  cocker  spaniel  I 
ever  knew  was  a  one-man  dog  to  an  extent  almost 
ludicrous — he  would  not  allow  any  one  to  touch  his 
master,  would  not  allow  the  hand  of  another  to  be 
laid  upon  him,  kept  his  master  in  sight  every  hour 
of  the  day,  and  slept  on  his  arm  at  night  like  a  child. 
Fate  is  kind  to  you  if  it  gives  you  the  worship,  sole 
and  undivided,  of  a  real  bird  dog. 

Taking  your  dog  just  as  he  is,  and  supposing  that 
220 


YOUR  BIRD  DOG 

once  out  of  six  times  he  is  worth  while,  there  are 
some  things  which  you  ought  to  bear  in  mind  regard- 
ing him  and  his  use.  For  instance,  he  lives  at  his 
trainer's  place  two  or  three  hundred  miles  from  your 
city.  That  means  that  he  must  travel  occasionally  by 
express  in  a  box  or  crate.  When  you  have  him 
shipped,  see  that  he  has  food  and  water.  Tip  the 
baggage  man,  the  express  agent,  especially  if  the 
journey  is  to  be  a  long  one;  pass  the  word  down  the 
line  that  it  will  be  worth  while  to  care  for  that  dog, 
to  feed  him,  water  him  and  even  to  exercise  him  if 
he  is  out  for  more  than  one  day  and  night. 

In  camp  use  your  dog  well.  When  he  comes  in 
from  the  field,  don't  let  him  lie  down  in  the  wind 
or  on  cold,  wet  ground — take  care  of  him,  make  him 
a  bed  where  he  will  be  warm.  The  modern  bird  dog 
is  not  hardy  as  a  wolf.  Heated  up  by  his  exercise,  he 
will  chill  off  quickly  when  he  stops  running,  just  as 
you  do  yourself,  and  he  has  no  extra  coat  which 
he  can  put  on.  Feed  your  dog  lightly  in  the  morning, 
if  at  all;  still  more  lightly  in  the  middle  of  the  day, 
but  feed  him  all  he  wants  to  eat  at  night.  During 
the  hunting  hours  see  that  he  gets  water  often,  espe- 
cially if  the  weather  be  warm.  It  is  very  hot  down  in 
the  grass  where  a  dog  is  obliged  to  work.  No  dog, 
still  less  the  delicate  bird  dog  of  today,  is  able  to  go 
like  a  machine  without  great  physical  discomfort. 
221 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

Care  for  your  dog,  therefore,  during  the  day  and  do 
not  go  on  thoughtlessly,  bent  on  your  own  enjoyment 
and  supposing  that  all  dogs  have  a  way  of  taking  care 
of  themselves.  Such  is  not  the  case.  If  water  is  not 
abundant  in  the  country  where  you  are  hunting,  take 
some  along  in  a  canteen  in  the  motor  car  or  buggy 
or  at  the  saddle  horn.  The  average  city  shooter  who 
gets  his  dog  on  from  his  trainer  is  apt  to  be  forgetful 
of  these  things,  because  he  is  not  used  to  handling 
dogs  in  the  field. 

In  time  your  dog  will  get  to  be  very  much  like  you. 
If  you  are  excitable  and  unreasonable,  he  is  apt  to 
become  so  himself.  You  ought  to  remember  that 
hardly  any  two  dogs  have  just  the  same  temperament, 
and  you  ought  to  remember  that  no  dog  understands" 
human  speech.  You  are  addressing  yourself  to  an 
embryonic  intelligence.  The  dog's  brain  is  vague, 
unformed — very  shrewd  in  some  specialized  instinc- 
tive ways,  but  not  at  all  the  same  brain  that  is  owned 
by  a  man.  Any  man  worthy  the  name  will  not  penal- 
ize or  punish  his  dog  simply  because  he  does  not  at 
once  do  what  he  is  asked  to  do. 

For  instance,  your  dog  has  been  broken  to  retrieve 
— a  very  beautiful,  yet  very  risky,  part  of  a  bird 
dog's  education.  He  wants  to  get  his  mouth  on  that 
bird  as  soon  as  it  drops.  If  you  don't  watch  him 
closely  he  is  apt  to  break  shot  and  run  in  as  soon  as  a 
222 


YOUR  BIRD  DOG 

bird  is  knocked  down,  and  thus  perhaps  put  up  birds 
which  otherwise  would  have  lain  to  the  gun.  The  time 
to  punish  your  dog  for  that  is  not  after  he  has  the 
bird  in  his  mouth  and  is  bringing  it  to  you,  but  before 
he  starts  in  to  pick  up  the  bird.  Why  does  he  start 
in?  In  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  because  you  yourself 
were  thinking  of  the  bird  and  not  of  the  dog;  you 
went  on  with  your  shooting  or  loading  or  marking 
the  flight  and  did  not  promptly  stop  the  dog  where 
he  was.  In  order  to  have  a  perfectly  broken  field 
dog,  you  must  be  willing  to  sacrifice  a  little  bit  of  your 
own  sport  now  and  then.  If  your  dog  is  very  un- 
steady, perhaps  you  will  let  a  friend  do  the  shooting 
while  you  watch  your  dog.  A  check  collar  and  rope 
will  steady  him.  Some  shooters  use  a  long  buggy 
whip  and  bring  it  down  across  the  dog's  back  if  he 
starts  to  break  shot,  calling  to  him  at  the  same  time, 
"Whoa!"  or  "Drop!"  If  your  friend  would  bring  the 
whip  down  across  your  own  back  once  in  a  while,  it 
would  have  a  similarly  restraining  effect.  In  many 
and  many  a  case  it  is  the  sportsman  who  needs  the 
check  collar  and  not  his  dog. 

Chasing  his  birds  is  the  trick  of  a  puppy  and  it  is 
one  of  the  most  easily  curable  faults  of  a  bird  dog. 
The  check  cord  is  useful  here.  Very  soon  the  dog 
will  learn  that  he  has  been  at  fault;  but  don't  whip 
your  dog  too  late  for  chasing — be  sure  he  knows 
223 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

what  it  is  about.  It  is  inhuman  and  wholly  ineffectual 
to  punish  a  dog  when  he  does  not  understand  why. 

False  pointing  is  something  usually  due  to  the  lack 
of  a  dog's  confidence  in  his  own  nose.  Don't  whip 
your  dog  for  false  pointing.  Simply  use  him  more 
and  more  until  his  nose  gets  a  chance  to  detect  the 
difference  between  game  birds  and  mice  or  moles.  The 
dog  which  jumps  promptly  and  positively  into  its 
points,  which  is  always  sure  of  itself — you  respect 
that  dog,  of  course,  the  same  as  you  do  a  man  of  posi- 
tive nature — but  you  don't  find  that  sort  every  day  in 
the  week.  There  is  no  more  use  in  licking  your  dog 
for  something  that  he  cannot  help  than  there  is  for 
snubbing  your  friend  for  the  same  reason. 

Blinking  his  point  is  something  which  a  querulous 
owner  or  handler  may  teach  his  dog.  I  once  had  a 
grand  young  dog,  I  think  the  finest  specimen  of  a 
pointer  I  ever  saw,  one  which  ought  to  have  been  a 
noble  individual  in  the  ranks  of  shooting-dogs,  but  he 
was  really  quite  worthless.  Why?  He  was  so  fast 
as  a  puppy  and  so  eager  that  his  trainer  could  not 
keep  up  with  him,  and  puppy  like,  now  and  then,  he 
would  flush  a  bird.  His  trainer  whipped  him  for 
this,  tied  a  log  chain  to  him  to  slow  him  down,  and, 
in  short,  every  time  he  found  a  bird  punished  him. 
Bold  and  courageous  as  this  dog  was,  he  began  to 
think  that  he  ought  not  to  point  birds.  I  have  seen 
224 


YOUR  BIRD  DOG 

him  point  a  covey  on  a  stubble  field  and  then,  the  hair 
rising  all  along  his  back  in  anger  or  fear — some 
emotion  acquired  in  his  education  and  not  in  his  breed- 
ing— turn  around  and  leave  the  birds  where  they  were. 
This  dog  could  find  as  many  birds  as  any  dog,  but 
he  rarely  would  point,  and  if  left  alone  took  a  savage 
delight  in  chasing  up  the  birds  and  setting  them  afire. 
It  was  bad  handling  that  was  responsible  for  that — 
punishment  administered  when  the  dog  did  not  know 
what  it  was  about. 

The  bird  dog  which  will  point  singles  is  the  one 
over  which  you  are  apt  to  get  your  bag.  Your  fast, 
eager,  high-headed  dog  is  the  one  to  find  coveys  for 
you.  If  after  the  covey  rises,  he  will  go  to  work  on 
singles  patiently,  then  you  have  a  bird  dog.  If  you 
have  one  which  will  patiently  hunt  for  a  dead  bird 
or  a  cripple,  so  much  the  better.  But  don't  whip 
the  dog  unreasonably  if  he  does  not  wish  to  go  and 
hunt  for  the  lost  bird.  His  instinct  is  to  be  off  after 
more  birds.  If  you  whip  him  when  he  has  that  thought 
in  his  mind,  you  have  cause  and  effect  twisted.  In- 
deed, cause  and  effect  are  twisted  in  nine  cases  out 
of  ten  in  which  dogs  are  punished  by  their  masters 
or  handlers.  The  instinct  of  the  average  shooter  is 
to  whip  his  dog  whenever  the  latter  does  not  do  what 
he  wants  him  to  do  at  once.  Patience  and  care  alone 
can  develop  the  ideal  bird  dog.  Therefore,  if  your 
225 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

dog  won't  hunt  the  lost  bird,  don't  bang  him  about, 
but  be  kindly  with  him.  Reward  him  when  he  has 
found  the  bird,  and  don't  whip  him  for  not  finding  it. 
Bear  in  mind  also  that  curious  trait  of  indifference 
which  hunting  dogs  have  for  dead  game  after  it  is 
down.  If  you  will  take  from  your  box  a  half  dozen 
dead  birds,  your  bird  dog  will  only  sniff  at  them  and 
go  away.  He  has  no  delight  after  he  knows  they  are 
accounted  for.  Some  retrievers  are  force-broken.  In 
this  case,  punishment  may  be  needed  to  make  them 
hunt  close  for  a  dead  bird. 

The  all-around  bird  dog — the  sort  we  used  to  call 
an  ideal  meat  dog,  rarely  exists  today.  There  are 
some  individuals  which  will  hunt  two  or  three  differ- 
ent species  of  game  birds  instinctively  or  by  training. 
The  average  bird  dog  in  the  United  States  today  is 
broken  on  quail.  You  cannot  enjoy  this  beautiful 
sport  unless  you  have  a  good  bird  dog.  If  a  good  one 
— one  all  your  own,  well  in  hand,  with  a  good  nose 
and  speed  and  stamina  to  travel  as  long  as  you  like — 
then  you  may  have  what  many  consider  the  best  sport 
obtainable  in  America.  In  my  own  case,  I  think  that 
quail-shooting  and  fly-fishing  for  trout  are  the  two 
best  sports  that  we  have  in  this  country.  As  soon  go 
fly  fishing  without  a  fly  rod  as  quail-shooting  without 
a  well-broken  dog. 

Before  the  shooting  season  opens,  one  ought  to 
226 


YOUR  BIRD  DOG 

have  his  dog  hardened  down  by  good  exercise  and 
he  should  advise  his  trainer  to  that  effect.  Road  work 
behind  a  horse  and  buggy  is  as  good  as  anything. 
One  ought  not  to  run  a  dog  to  death  following  up  a 
bicycle,  and,  of  course,  the  motor  car  is  out  of  the 
question.  Indeed,  the  gasoline  engine  has  had  its 
effect  on  our  bird  dogs  as  it  has  on  almost  every  other 
phase  of  sport.  It  is  making  our  dogs  smaller  and 
weaker,  fatter  and  less  useful. 

When  you  are  working  your  dog  in  the  field,  avoid 
the  bad  habit  of  calling  to  him  all  the  time.  He 
doesn't  understand  what  it  is  all  about.  Let  him  alone. 
If  he  is  a  bird  dog  at  all,  he  has  the  instinct  to  hunt. 
If  he  is  intelligent,  he  will  hunt  to  the  gun — that  is 
to  say,  he  will  follow  your  general  course  as  you 
advance  in  your  hunting.  You  should  keep  him  in 
sight  as  much  as  possible,  but  not  interrupt  him  at  his 
work  by  continual  shouting  and  whistling.  The  hard- 
est thing  to  teach  a  dog  is  to  come  to  you  when  you 
want  him.  Why  ?  Because  too  often  the  dog  has  been 
taught  that  when  he  does  come,  it  is  only  to  receive 
a  licking  and  not  a  reward.  Would  you  be  keen  to 
go  up  to  your  boss  if  you  were  sure  he  was  going  to 
thrash  the  life  out  of  you  as  soon  as  he  could  get 
his  hands  on  you?  Reason  about  these  things.  Re- 
member that  you  are  addressing  a  vague  and  un- 
formed intellect,  which  does  not  think  as  you  think. 
227 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

You  must  deal  only  on  broad  lines  in  reaching  the 
intelligence  of  this  willing  and  faithful  servant. 

The  prime  instinct  of  a  dog  is  to  find  birds  for  him- 
self;  the  acquired  instinct,  intensified  by  many  genera- 
tions of  careful  training,  is  that  under  which  the  dog 
identifies  you  with  his  find.  There  are  a  few  dogs  in 
Norway  which  are  known  as  reporters.  They  will 
leave  the  covey  of  the  birds  when  found,  go  and 
locate  the  shooter  and  bring  him  back  to  the  birds, 
which  they  point  again.  This  trait  is  well  defined 
and  well  authenticated,  but  is  rare  or  unknown  in  this 
country.  None  the  less,  if  you  examine  your  bird 
dog  while  he  is  on  his  point,  you  will  see  him  now 
and  then  turn  his  head  away.  He  will  see  you  out 
of  the  corner  of  his  eye,  will  incline  his  head  a  little 
towards  you,  then  slowly  bring  it  back  in  line  with  the 
object  which  has  produced  in  him  that  strange,  almost 
cataleptic,  condition  of  the  pointing  dog.  He  knows 
that  you  are  in  on  the  play.  He  wants  to  hear  the 
sound  of  the  gun  and  he  wants  to  see  the  bird  fall. 
If  you  are  a  very  poor  shot,  you  will  be  handicapped 
by  never  having  the  undivided  allegiance  of  any  real 
bird  dog — he  is  apt  to  pick  out  some  one  else  among 
your  friends,  the  sort  of  man  of  whom  folks  say:  "He 
nearly  always  has  a  good  bird  dog  around  him." 
Such  a  man  and  such  a  dog  understand  each  other 
naturally.  If  you  are  that  kind  of  man,  it  doesn't 
228 


YOUR  BIRD  DOG 

take  long  for  your  dog  to  establish  a  lasting  friendship 
with  you.  And  he  takes  you  into  all  his  calculations, 
even  when  he  points. 

Very  likely  he  is  prouder  and  more  tolerant  in 
nature  than  you.  He  doesn't  bite  you  every  time  you 
miss  a  bird.  If  he  did  you  could  not  walk  home. 

You  may  have  seen  an  efficient  shooting  dog,  a 
cowed  and  hanging  back  sort  of  affair,  with  little 
spirit  left,  do  the  bidding  of  some  market  hunter  or 
other,  and  do  it  well.  In  the  best  sense  of  the  word, 
however,  I  do  not  believe  that  any  ideal,  gentleman's 
shooting-dog  ever  belonged  to  anybody  but  a  gentle- 
man. A  dignified  owner  gives  dignity  to  his  dog.  The 
grand  old  dogs  of  earlier  times,  when  we  had  abun- 
dant game  and  abundant  leisure,  nearly  always  were 
dogs  which  belonged  in  good  families.  In  those  days 
we  had  handsome,  big  setters  and  pointers,  brainy, 
individual  dogs,  which  knew  nothing  of  training  as 
we  understand  it  today,  but  which  were  like  the  men 
who  owned  them.  So  may  your  dog  be  like  you 
today;  yet  you  both  live  under  changed  conditions. 
Our  dogs  have  changed,  and  we  with  them,  because 
the  times  have  changed.  The  dogs  which  take  down 
money  in  the  field  or  on  the  bench  today  would  not 
have  been  of  value  fifty  years  ago.  But  they  are 
in  better  tune  with  the  times  than  would  be  their  old- 
time  ancestors. 

229 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

Adjustment,  compromise,  acceptance  of  existing 
conditions  are  things  which  control  the  sport  of  today 
as  we  find  it.  Lucky  the  man  who  has  a  place  to 
keep  and  train  a  good  bird  dog.  If  the  dog  favors 
him  as  his  one  master,  be  sure  that  is  the  one  lasting 
and  indissoluble  friendship.  The  dog  has  a  noble 
soul — not  servile  and  fawning  and  selfish  as  is  the 
cat;  not  ignorant  and  weak-minded  as  is  the  horse — 
but  large-minded,  owning  some  sixth  sense  which  we 
human  beings  do  not  in  the  least  understand,  some 
sixth  sense  which  gives  the  dog  more  breadth  of 
nature,  more  charity,  more  kindness,  than  are  owned 
by  his  master.  The  dog's  friendship  is  a  beautiful 
and  wonderful  thing,  something  which  no  man  really 
understands  and  something  which  all  too  few  men 
really  deserve. 

Take  the  bird  dog  puppy,  the  soft,  fuzzy  little 
creature,  his  eyes  still  blue,  his  voice  still  squeaky — • 
feed  him  and  bed  him  and  care  for  him,  teach  him 
to  be  a  gentleman,  because  you  are  one  yourself — 
you  are  laying  foundations  for  a  friendship  which 
will  cause  you  grief  when  its  end  comes.  Use  that 
dog  with  reason  and  with  dignity — not  asking  him  to 
forget  this  strange,  undefined  sixth  sense,  so  beyond 
this  proud  intellect  of  your  own — live  with  him,  think 
with  him,  work  with  him,  until  he  knows  who  you 
are  and  what  you  want — and  then  you  are  getting 
230 


YOUR  BIRD  DOG 

one  of  the  delights  of  life  for  whose  absence  nothing 
of  success  can  really  atone.  To  have  a  dog  meet  you 
at  night  when  you  come  home  from  work  and  look 
you  in  the  face  and  welcome  you — to  have  him  wake 
you  in  the  morning  with  his  cold  nose  and  tell  you  it 
is  time  to  go  to  work  again — these  are  things  no  fel- 
low ought  to  be  without.  Of  course,  some  of  us 
do  lack  them.  In  that  case,  we  must  compromise 
and  do  the  best  we  can.  But  in  no  case  should  any 
man  in  the  world  be  without  a  dog;  if  he  can  help  it. 


XI 

YOUR  GUN:    HOW  TO  HANDLE  IT 


XI 

YOUR  GUN:  HOW  TO  HANDLE  IT 

THE  development  of  the  sport  of  trap-shooting 
at  targets  has  kept  us  Americans  in  the 
front  rank  of  users  of  the  shotgun  in  spite 
of  the  gradual  disappearance  of  our  opportunities  for 
field-shooting.  In  the  old  days  of  general  abundance 
of  wild  game,  the  average  man  in  this  country  could 
learn  to  shoot  in  the  field.  In  the  old  world,  skill  with 
the  shotgun  has  long  been  an  accomplishment  belong- 
ing to  relatively  few,  and  those  of  the  privileged 
classes.  Today  our  lessening  game  supply  has  de- 
prived us  of  much  of  the  popular  enjoyment  of  field 
sports  once  so  general,  so  that  although  today  more 
Americans  own  shotguns  than  ever  before,  and  al- 
though they  are  better  trap-shots  than  the  world  ever 
before  saw,  still  we  have  lost  standing  as  a  race  of 
good  wing  shots,  odd  as  that  paradox  may  sound. 

Trap-shooting  at  targets  seems  rather  mechanical 
to  the  man  following  his  own  gun  and  dog.     It  per- 
fects the  skill  of  any  user  of  the  shotgun,  and  it  has 
become  so  general  in  America  that  our  better  amateur 
235 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

trap-shots  have  no  difficulty  in  accounting  for  the 
best  of  any  other  nation.  In  Europe  the  sport  of  trap- 
shooting  is  not  made  a  business,  as  it  is  here.  Targets 
thrown  from  towers,  from  behind  hedges  and  screens, 
at  unexpected  times  and  angles,  are  there  thought  to 
afford  better  practice  for  the  shotgun  than  the  sys- 
tematic target  grinding  of  the  average  American  tour- 
nament. 

But  what  shall  the  American  boy  do  who  wishes  to 
learn  the  old-time  gentleman's  accomplishment  of 
wing-shooting  in  the  field?  Of  course,  this  is  some- 
thing he  ought  to  know,  as  he  should  know  how 
to  swim,  skate,  ride,  to  sail  a  boat,  and  to  do  many 
other  things  in  the  way  of  manly  accomplishment. 
Of  course,  the  best  thing  for  him  would  be  to  take 
regular  instruction  on  the  gun  as  he  would  on  any 
other  instrument,  although  few  American  parents  take 
the  trouble  to  ground  their  sons  so  carefully  in  the 
use  of  weapons.  The  average  boy  picks  up  his  own 
education  with  the  shotgun,  hit  or  miss. 

Carelessness  is  part  of  the  average  boy,  and  care- 
less habits  formed  early  in  life  are  apt  to  persist.  Go 
to  any  trap-shoot,  and  watch  the  careless  way  in  which 
many  a  grown-up  uses  his  gun.  Of  course,  shooters 
are  not  allowed  to  have  loaded  guns  except  on  the  fir- 
ing line,  and  they  are  obliged  to  follow  strict  rules 
there,  but  often  you  will  be  horrified  to  see  even  skill- 
236 


YOUR  GUN:  HOW  TO  HANDLE  IT 

ful  shooters  standing  with  a  hand  over  the  muzzle  of 
the  gun,  leaning  on  it,  allowing  it  to  point  at  their  per- 
sons or  at  the  person  of  someone  else.  And  always  the 
answer  to  any  protest  will  be,  "Why,  it  is  not  loaded." 
The  same  carelessness  is  noticeable  in  many  men  in 
shooting  in  the  field.  Indeed,  one  cannot  be  too  care- 
ful in  choosing  his  company  in  the  field.  Certainly 
we  need  education  of  our  young  shooter's  before  they 
be  allowed  to  use  a  weapon  so  dangerous  to  themselves 
and  others  as  is  the  shotgun. 

In  England  the  youth  quite  often  is  sent  to  a  pro- 
fessional gun  tutor,  but  in  this  country  that  function- 
ary is  not  yet  generally  known,  although  in  time  it  may 
be  as  customary  to  send  a  boy  to  a  shooting  school 
as  it  is  now  to  send  him  to  a  riding  school  or  a  gram- 
mar school.  Moreover,  this  part  of  a  boy's  educa- 
tion ought  not  to  be  so  much  education  as  discipline  in 
the  severest  sense  of  the  word.  No  man,  even  one 
who  has  had  the  most  careful  tuition  in  his  youth, 
has  ever  shot  all  his  life  without  knowing  of  some 
shotgun  accident  or  being  party  to  one,  on  the  one 
side  or  the  other.  Neither  is  there  any  weapon  so 
dangerous  as  the  shotgun  at  short  range.  To  drive 
home  this  fact  into  a  careless  boy's  mind  is  some- 
thing which  cannot  be  done  by  a  few  gentle  words. 
It  takes  discipline,  the  same  discipline  as  that  which 
makes  the  soldier. 

237 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

The  writer  has  a  friend  who  goes  through  life 
minus  his  left  hand.  Cause — a  hand  rested  on  a  gun 
muzzle  as  he  stood  on  a  log.  Last  year  a  leading 
lawyer,  an  acquaintance  of  the  writer,  had  his  head 
blown  off  by  a  companion.  Cause — two  guns  in  a 
duck  boat.  The  writer  once  saw  a  young  man  who 
had  an  arm  amputated  because  of  a  gunshot  wound. 
He  died.  Cause — dragging  a  gun  under  a  fence, 
muzzle  toward  himself.  A  dozen  other  accidents  of 
like  sort  come  to  mind,  so  serious  that  it  causes  one's 
blood  to  run  cold  to  see  mere  boys,  unattended  and 
untrained,  running  around,  perhaps  several  with  one 
gun  between  them,  and  all  wrangling  as  to  who  shall 
shoot  it  next. 

The  time  to  teach  a  boy  to  shoot  is  right  at  the 
beginning.  That  is  the  time  to  teach  both  carefulness 
in  handling  firearms,  and  also  good  form  and  eti- 
quette in  handling  them. 

Of  course,  the  first  lesson  should  be  as  to  the  ex- 
treme danger  of  the  gun.  The  teacher,  whether  the 
parent  or  someone  else,  should  tell  the  boy  all  the 
horrible  stories  of  accidents  that  he  can  think  o'f. 
Take  him  out  in  the  open,  and  blow  a  hole  through 
a  board  with  the  shotgun,  then  ask  the  boy  how  he'd 
like  to  have  that  kind  of  a  hole  blown  through  him- 
self or  through  his  playmate.  Keep  this  up  until 
the  boy  is  entirely  serious  and  respectful  in  his  at- 

238 


YOUR  GUN:  HOW  TO  HANDLE  IT 

titude  towards  the  weapon  he  is  to  use.  Do  not  let 
him  touch  the  gun  by  himself  for  some  time.  Explain 
to  him  that  it  is  to  be  used  only  to  kill  something. 
Teach  him  that  at  all  other  times  the  gun  must  be 
empty — empty  in  the  house  or  tent,  empty  in  the 
wagon,  empty  in  the  boat,  all  the  time  and  not  part 
of  the  time,  when  not  on  the  actual  firing  line.  Ex- 
plain broadly  the  mechanism  of  the  gun  to  the  boy, 
and  show  him  the  safety  device  on  a  hammerless  gun, 
but  teach  him  that  no  safety  device  leaves  a  gun  safe. 
It  is  not  safe  even  when  empty.  It  is  never  safe 
so  long  as  it  points  towards  himself  or  towards  any- 
one else.  This  habit  of  belief  will  establish  the  habit 
of  automatic  carefulness  in  the  carrying  of  the  shot- 
gun. 

A  boy  can  first  begin  to  handle  a  gun  in  the  house, 
of  course  entirely  empty,  until  he  becomes  familiar 
with  the  handling  and  feel  of  it,  but  he  should  not  at 
first  be  allowed  alone  with  the  gun.  At  all  times  he 
should  be  taught  to  respect  a  gun  as  something  more 
than  a  gun,  to  regard  it  as  a  weapon  and  not  as  a 
toy,  and  hence  as  a  part  of  himself.  It  was  one 
of  the  worst  of  discourtesies  in  the  early  Western 
days  even  to  touch  another  man's  six-shooter,  and 
very  many  men  never  allowed  even  a  friend's  hand 
on  their  revolvers. 

Most  fathers  give  the  boy  a  single-barrel  gun  to 
239 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

begin  with.  That  is  not  good  practice,  especially  in 
this  day  when  so  many  light  double  guns  can  be  had. 
It  is  best  to  get  a  double  barrel,  bored  rather  open, 
not  choke-bored  for  trap-shooting,  and  near  the  stan- 
dard gauge.  A  sixteen  is  small  enough  for  a  boy  to 
learn  to  use.  There  are  fine  small-gauge  guns  made 
today,  but  they  handicap  one  who  is  just  learning  the 
art  of  shooting.  Today  you  can  get  a  twelve-gauge, 
American-made,  as  low  as  six  and  three-fourth  pounds 
weight.  If  the  boy  is  not  big  enough  to  handle  that 
weight,  he  is  hardly  old  enough  to  shoot.  Also,  a 
delay  of  a  year  or  so  will  make  him  better  able  to  stand 
the  recoil  of  a  gun.  He  should  be  started  in  with 
light  loads,  however,  so  that  he  may  not  get  the 
habit  of  flinching.  An  ounce  of  shot  will  do,  and 
say  two  and  a  half  drams  of  powder.  The  pupil  will 
be  more  encouraged  if  he  has  some  record  of  hitting 
something,  so  in  the  first  lessons  it  is  quite  as  well  to 
use  number  eight  rather  than  number  six. 

Some  parents  begin  by  throwing  up  bottles  for  the 
young  marksman  to  shoot  at.  This  makes  a  difficult 
object  to  hit,  and  its  flight  does  not  resemble  that  of  a 
bird.  It  is  much  better  to  begin  shooting  at  a  sta- 
tionary target  until  the  boy  has  been  drilled  in  the 
rudiments  of  good  form  in  handling  a  gun.  Moreover, 
as  great  care  should  be  taken  in  fitting  the  boy's  gun- 
stock  as  the  father  takes  with  his  own.  Some  men 
240 


YOUR  GUN:  HOW  TO  HANDLE  IT 

experiment  with  gunstocks  all  their  lives,  but  think 
anything  is  good  enough  for  the  beginner.  The  op- 
posite is  true.  The  boy  should  be  taken  to  an  expert 
salesman  or  gunsmith,  and  fitted  with  his  gun  as 
accurately  as  a  man  is  fitted. 

There  ought  to  be  some  weeks,  months  or  seasons, 
however,  expended  on  the  boy  before  he  is  allowed  to 
shoot  at  all.  Let  him  carry  his  gun  empty  for  a  time, 
even  walking  afield  with  his  parent  or  others.  If  he  is 
found  pointing  his  gun  at  himself  or  anyone  else,  even 
when  the  gun  is  empty,  take  it  away  from  him  and  do 
not  let  him  have  it  for  a  week.  Don't  mince  matters, 
and  be  stern  about  it,  letting  him  learn  that  it  is  dis- 
cipline and  not  persuasion  with  which  he  has  to  do, 
because  he  is  beginning  to  learn  to  use  a  dangerous 
weapon.  If  he  is  detected  crawling  through  a  fence 
and  pulling  the  gun  toward  him  muzzle  first,  take  it 
away  from  him  and  send  him  home  in  disgrace. 
Teach  him  to  "break"  his  gun,  loaded  or  empty,  when 
he  is  standing  near  others,  or  crossing  a  fence.  If  he 
forgets  this,  take  his  gun  away  from  him.  He  will 
soon  get  the  right  habit. 

When  you  are  absolutely  sure  that  the  boy  has 
learned  and  learned  permanently  the  first  great  lesson 
of  the  shotgun — that  it  is  not  a  fault  but  a  crime  to 
jeopardize  his  own  life  or  that  of  another — you  may 
begin  to  let  the  boy  shoot  with  you,  never  alone.  Get 
241 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

a  good  clear  range  where  you  will  not  be  disturbed, 
and  go  out  alone  with  the  boy.  Tack  up  a  big  sheet 
of  paper  with  a  big  bull's-eye  at  a  distance  of  twenty- 
five  or  thirty  yards.  Let  the  first  practice  be  with 
the  empty  gun.  Have  the  boy  bring  up  the  gun 
promptly,  with  both  eyes  wide  open,  and  try  to  cover 
the  bull's-eye  with  the  one  motion,  so  that  the  muzzle 
shall  point  at  the  bull's-eye  just  as  the  stock  strikes 
the  shoulder.  Then  let  him  snap  the  hammers,  prefer- 
ably on  empty  shells.  Keep  this  up  some  time.  Don't 
let  the  boy  poke  or  potter,  but  let  him  be  impressed 
with  the  necessity  of  covering  his  object  with  the  first 
impulse  of  the  gun  against  the  shoulder.  He  must  not 
be  allowed  time  to  poke  around  and  aim,  but  must 
learn  the  value  of  the  prompt  and  smooth  pitching  up 
of  the  gun. 

Next  let  the  student  stand  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
bull's-eye,  then  close  the  eyes,  both  of  them,  and  pitch 
up  the  gun,  trying  to  cover  the  bull's-eye  as  before. 
When  he  has  taken  aim  thus  blindfolded,  so  to  speak, 
let  him  keep  the  gun  in  the  position  where  it  was 
pitched  up,  and  then  open  his  eyes,  and  sight  down 
the  barrel,  so  that  he  can  see  how  close  his  aim  has 
been.  Considerable  practice  at  this  is  good  either  for 
a  boy  or  a  man,  and  it  will  disclose  whether  the  gun- 
stock  fits  or  not.  It  will  not  hurt  to  let  off  a  load  of 
powder  once  or  twice,  with  no  shot,  mixing  a  few  of 
242 


YOUR  GUN:  HOW  TO  HANDLE  IT 

these  in  with  the  empty  shells  in  the  gun,  so  that  he 
will  not  know  when  to  expect  them.  He  must  not 
flinch,  and  he  must  learn  to  pitch  the  gun  smoothly. 
If  at  any  time  in  this  work  the  pupil  becomes  excited 
and  careless,  take  the  gun  away  from  him  for  a  week. 
Have  no  foolishness  about  it,  and  be  as  stern  as  you 
like — even  more  stern  than  you  like,  perhaps.  It  is 
discipline  and  not  sport  which  the  boy  is  learning 
now. 

When  you  think  that  your  pupil  has  mastered  these 
elemental  things — and  he  cannot  do  that  in  his  first 
season — you  may  begin  with  loaded  cartridges,  prac- 
ticing on  the  sheet  of  paper,  and  with  loads  which 
will  not  jar  the  tender  shoulder  of  the  pupil.  If  his 
gun  fits  him,  and  if  it  be  not  bored  too  close,  he  will 
be  apt  to  hit  his  target  frequently  ev?n  with  both  eyes 
shut.  Then  let  him  begin  with  both  eyes  open — not 
closing  the  left  eye,  but  shooting  with  head  fairly  high 
and  both  eyes  on  the  target.  Then  let  him  trace  out 
for  himself  where  the  center  of  the  load  hit,  realizing 
that  the  center  ought  to  land  on  the  bull's-eye.  But 
teach  him  that  speed  and  promptness  of  aim  and  fire 
are  at  this  time  more  important  for  him  than  hitting 
the  bull's-eye.  He  is  now  learning  good  form,  good 
habits,  in  the  actual  use  of  the  gun.  Accuracy  will 
come  from  greater  practice.  By  the  time  your  son  is 
ten  or  twelve  years  of  age,  he  may  if  you  like,  be  very 
243 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

well  grounded  in  these  simple  fundamentals  which 
have  so  much  to  do  with  his  field  style  later  on. 

Relatively  few  American  boys  even  have  this  much 
training  in  the  art  of  wing-shooting.  They  pick  it 
up  by  themselves,  after  a  time  learning  enough  so  that 
they  begin  to  shoot  at  traps,  where  their  education 
with  the  shotgun  is  finished,  without  much  reference 
as  to  their  actual  education  in  the  art  of  field-shoot- 
ing; in  which  courtesy,  etiquette  and  carefulness  are 
as  important  as  actual  skill  in  killing  things. 

In  some  shooting  schools  there  are  moving  targets, 
rabbits  or  other  animals,  which  run  along  a  wire,  and 
the  boy  is  next  taught  to  shoot  at  these,  it  being  shown 
to  him  how  necessary  it  is  to  hold  well  ahead,  and  to 
swing  with  the  moving  object,  always  without  stop- 
ping the  gun  in  the  least  when  the  trigger  is  pulled. 
The  thing  we  are  trying  to  teach  him  is  the  mental 
focus,  the  concentration  of  purpose,  under  which  he 
throws  up  the  gun  promptly,  loosing  it  off  quickly  the 
instant  he  knows  he  is  in  the  right  place,  and  almost 
unconscious  that  there  is  any  trigger  on  the  gun  at  all. 
These  moving  targets  are  excellent  for  a  beginner,  but 
since  they  are  not  often  obtainable  in  this  country,  the 
boy  can  do  very  well  at  tin  cans  thrown,  not  in  the 
air,  but  rolling  and  bounding  along  the  ground,  at  a 
distance  of  twenty  or  thirty  yards  from  the  shooter. 

The  next  thing  after  the  useful  tin  can  is  the  cot- 
244 


YOUR  GUN:  HOW  TO  HANDLE  IT 

ton-tail  rabbit.  Then  there  are  certain  slow-flying 
birds  which  will  do  for  a  little  practice.  No  boy 
should  be  allowed  to  break  the  game  laws,  however, 
and  he  should  not  be  allowed  to  shoot  song  birds  at 
any  time.  When  you  catch  him  doing  that,  take  his 
gun  away  from  him  for  a  month.  In  all  this  shooting, 
the  boy  is  very  apt  to  have  most  prominently  in  mind 
the  desire  to  kill  something,  to  hit  his  object,  and  so 
will  be  disposed  to  poke  and  aim,  and  so  shoot  behind. 
Teach  him  that  speed  of  aim  and  accuracy  of  aim  go 
together,  and  above  all  teach  him  that  he  cannot  stop 
his  gun  when  he  pulls  the  trigger  and  expect  to  hit 
anything. 

It  will  be  a  proud  day  for  the  boy,  very  likely,  when 
you  allow  him  to  go  afield  with  you  for  your  first  hunt 
together — a  proud  day  for  you  as  well.  This  ought 
to  be  not  earlier  than  his  second  season  of  familiarity 
with  the  gun.  It  is  best  to  have  not  more  than  your- 
self and  the  boy  when  you  go  out  in  the  field.  You 
must  teach  him  now  the  etiquette  of  the  gun,  as  pre- 
cisely and  severely  as  you  have  taught  him  the  eti- 
quette of  table  manners.  He  will  now  have  ad- 
vanced beyond  the  merely  disciplinary  part  of  his 
education,  in  which  you  have  been  drill  sergeant  only, 
and  not  parent.  Speak  to  him  kindly  now,  let  him 
understand  that  he  is  not  out  merely  for  a  lark,  but 
for  a  part  of  his  education.  Teach  him  if  you  can 
245 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

the  value  as  a  gentlemanly  accomplishment  of  skill 
with  weapons,  and  let  him  learn  if  he  can  that,  al- 
though in  using  weapons  he  will  kill  something,  the 
mere  wish  to  kill  something  is  by  no  means  the  only 
motive  or  purpose  of  the  gentleman  or  the  sportsman. 
By  this  time  the  boy  will  be  anxious  to  learn  the 
correct  way  of  handling  his  gun.  See  that  you  are  a 
good  example  for  him,  and  let  him  go  out  only  with 
yourself  or  someone  who  is  a  good  example.  If  he 
is  walking  beside  you,  teach  him  to  carry  his  gun 
over  the  crook  of  his  arm,  pointing  the  other  way. 
If  he  puts  the  gun  on  his  shoulder,  teach  him  never 
to  swing  it  as  he  turns  so  that  it  will  point  toward 
anyone.  If  he  is  behind  you  in  going  through  brush, 
be  sure  that  he  carries  his  gun  with  the  muzzle  back. 
If  he  is  ahead  of  you,  see  that  he  carries  his  gun 
muzzle  forward.  Train  him  especially  in  getting  over 
fences.  Teach  him  always  to  set  his  gun  on  the  safety, 
or  let  down  the  hammers,  and  put  it  through  the 
fence  ahead  of  himself,  later  climbing  the  fence  at  one 
side  of  the  gun,  and  never  pulling  the  gun  through 
the  fence  toward  himself.  Of  course  when  the  young 
shooter  finds  himself  in  average  company,  he  will  meet 
many  men  who  have  never  been  trained  as  carefully 
as  himself.  In  that  case  he  should  not  cease  in  his 
own  proper  habits,  but  he  need  not  be  ostentatious  in 
his  own  gun  drill,  whatever  others  are.  Simplicity 
246 


YOUR  GUN:  HOW  TO  HANDLE  IT 

and  courtesy  are  as  useful  here  as  every  place  else 
in  life.  Any  man  or  any  boy,  however,  is  entirely 
within  his  rights  in  reprimanding  any  person  who 
points  a  gun  at  him  accidentally  or  with  intent  or  in 
jest.  This  is  no  jest.  No  one  should  point  a  gun 
except  with  the  intent  to  kill  with  it,  and  to  kill  at 
once.  It  is  not  a  discourtesy  but  worse  than  that,  to 
be  careless  in  the  handling  of  a  gun.  The  boy  will  see 
many  men  standing  about  leaning  on  their  guns  with 
their  hands  over  the  muzzle.  He  need  not  chide  a 
man  for  this,  but  he  need  not  do  so  himself,  and  he 
ought  not  to  shoot  in  the  field  with  a  man  whom  he 
has  found  to  be  careless  in  the  handling  of  his  gun. 
Many  and  many  a  time  every  one  of  us,  when  out 
shooting  in  the  country,  has  found  himself  one  of  a 
chance  medley  party  of  all  sorts  of  persons  with  all 
sorts  of  guns,  who  "ring  in"  on  the  shoot,  in  a  per- 
fectly friendly  but  often  perfectly  horrible  way.  At 
the  risk  of  being  thought  rude,  select  your  own  com- 
pany, and  only  those  whom  you  know  to  be  care- 
ful and  gentlemanly.  Especially  select  this  sort  of 
company  for  your  boy,  and  let  him  start  right,  with 
some  kindly  and  careful  older  companion  who  will  see 
that  he  has  a  chance. 

The  old-time  prairie  chicken  used  to  be  a  splendid 
thing  for  the  young  marksmen,  the  next  thing  after 
the  cotton-tail  rabbit.     Our  quail  are  a  little  more 
247 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

difficult,  but  are  apt  to  be  pretty  much  the  only  game 
the  average  boy  is  likely  to  see.  Perhaps  the  first  bird 
the  boy  kills  flying  may  be  a  snipe,  a  plover,  some 
shore  bird,  a  prairie  grouse,  or  even  a  quail.  He  is 
a  made  boy  from  that  time  on,  and  the  love  of  the 
art  is  thenceforward  fixed  for  him.  But  teach  him  to 
temper  his  enthusiasm  with  care  and  dignity,  and  do 
not  let  his  excitement  render  him  careless  with  his 
gun.  When  you  come  to  the  wagon  see  that  he  takes 
out  his  shells.  If  you  shoot  in  the  same  duck  blind, 
teach  him  that  he  must  never  shoot  over  the  head  of  a 
companion,  or  close  to  the  ear  of  a  companion.  Teach 
him  also  the  courtesy  of  the  field — to  shoot  the  birds 
which  come  on  his  own  side,  and  never  to  be  eager 
to  claim  a  bird  on  which  perhaps  two  men  have 
doubled.  It  is  hard  for  a  boy  to  give  up  a  bird  if 
he  sees  it  fall  ahead  of  his  gun,  but  he  has  gone  a  step 
towards  being  a  gentleman  when  he  can  toss  the  bird 
to  the  other  fellow  and  say,  "Your  bird,  sir." 

If  it  is  your  purpose  to  teach  your  son  to  be  a 
gentleman  and  a  sportsman,  and  not  merely  a  game 
butcher,  you  will  teach  him  that  shooting  birds  on  the 
water  or  on  the  ground  requires  no  skill  and  is  not 
good  form.  Teach  him  to  pick  out  his  bird  in  a  covey 
rise,  and  not  merely  to  shoot  at  the  flock.  Teach  him, 
by  precept  and  example,  not  to  break  the  game  laws 
and  not  to  kill  too  much.  In  all  this  you  will  be 
248 


YOUR  GUN:  HOW  TO  HANDLE  IT 

teaching  him  the  great  laws  of  conservation  and  of 
fair  play.  To  that  extent  you  are  grounding  him  in 
good  citizenship,  and  starting  him  in  as  a  man  who  is 
apt  to  be  just,  careful  and  fair  in  business  and  social 
relations.  The  world  likes  that  sort  of  man  in  busi- 
ness or  society,  and  there  are  few  places  where  a  boy 
can  learn  better  principles  of  life  than  in  the  field 
with  a  companion  who  in  himself  represents  good 
traditions  in  the  matter  of  skill  and  etiquette  afield. 
Time  was  when  the  term  gentleman  and  sportsman 
ment  much  the  same.  They  have  not  yet  lost  their 
flavor,  these  two  titles. 

The  first  use  of  a  gun  by  a  boy  is  a  time  justly 
held  in  some  dread  by  the  boy's  parents.  Careful 
tuition  in  this  part  of  the  boy's  education,  however, 
removes  the  danger  and  puts  him  in  the  way  of  a 
knowledge  which  may  prove  of  very  lasting  value  in 
character  making.  Self-reliance  and  dignity  are  only 
two  of  the  things  which  you  will  find  your  boy  taking 
on  when  he  begins  to  use  his  first  shotgun  as  a  young 
gentleman  should  use  it. 


XII 
YOUR  CAMPFIRE:    HOW  TO  USE  IT 


XII 
YOUR  CAMPFIRE:    HOW  TO  USE  IT 

THE  same  as  yourself,  when  I  was  a  boy 
there  were  two  questions  that  not  even  my 
Sunday-school  teacher  was  able  to  answer 
to  my  satisfaction.  One  was:  What  holds  the  stars 
up?  The  other  was:  Where  does  fire  come  from? 
It  is  not  absolutely  sure  to  me,  even  yet,  that  any- 
body ever  has  answered  those  questions  lucidly  and 
comprehensively — so  many  answers  being  just  differ- 
ent ways  of  looking  at  questions. 

Which  of  us  does  not  recall  lying  awake  at  night 
and  looking  up  at  the  stars  and  wondering  why  they 
did  not  fall  down?  They  do  sometimes,  as  any  boy 
can  tell;  but  why  not  all  the  time?  Sir  Isaac  Newton 
propounded  a  certain  theory  about  it ;  but  it  is  like  the 
critic's  comment  on  the  heroine  in  a  novel — she  is 
not  convincing.  Not  even  my  college  professor  could 
ever  put  the  law  of  gravitation  across  with  me.  It  is 
thin  stuff.  But,  anyhow,  the  stars  are  fine  to  look  at. 

Then  again,  that  question  of  the  fire.  How  many 
times  have  we  all  asked  mother  what  made  the  match 
253 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

light  when  you  struck  it?  And  where  did  the  flame 
of  the  candle  go  when  you  blew  it  out?  And  if  it 
was  hot  before  it  went  out,  why  did  it  not  stay  hot 
where  it  went?  And  where  did  it  go  anyhow? 

The  dear  lady  never  could  get  those  questions  an- 
swered to  suit  us  at  all.  Has  this  ever  been  plain 
to  you?  If  you  have  got  that  and  the  question  about 
the  stars  settled  so  that  you  understand  them  clearly 
you  are  some  wise. 

There  is  something  mutual  between  the  stars  and  the 
campfire — that  seems  plain.  The  campfire  at  night 
under  the  stars — who  has  not  studied  in  that  school 
and  found  out  that  perhaps  answers  are  not  so  im- 
portant in  life  as  just  questions?  Certainly  life  in  the 
open  would  be  robbed  of  all  charm  were  it  not  for  the 
stars  and  the  fire. 

Where  did  the  first  fire  come  from  ?  Who  made  it  ? 
How  was  it  discovered  ?  Interesting  books  have  been 
written  on  those  questions;  and  some  of  them  have 
paid  fair  royalties  though  under  false  pretenses.  The 
only  thing  certain  is  that  a  first  campfire  was  made; 
and  without  the  campfire  there  would  be  no  sport,  no 
geography  and  no  history. 

Books  have  been  writen  about  the  campfire  itself — 

how  to  make  it  and  use  it — proof  that  man  is  drifting 

away  from  that  day  and  age  in  the  world  when  every 

man  knew  how  to  build  a  fire.    We  face  the  time  when 

254 


YOUR  CAMPFIRE 

the  only  man  able  to  build  a  fire  will  be  the  janitor — 
and  he  will  belong  to  a  union  and  be  liable  to  walk 
out  any  minute. 

In  the  old  days  father  used  to  get  up  before  the 
other  members  of  the  family — did  he  not? — and  build 
the  fire  in  the  kitchen  stove,  summer  or  winter.  He 
always  built  the  first  fire  in  the  kitchen  stove,  because 
that  was  where  the  early  operations  of  the  day  began. 

He  went  out  into  the  kitchen  without  much  on  but 
a  pair  of  carpet  slippers;  and  what  he  did — in  a 
climate  where  perhaps  the  thermometer  was  far  below 
zero  and  the  kitchen  floor  well  covered  with  snow 
that  had  blown  in  under  the  kitchen  door — was  some- 
thing direct,  simple  and  highly  efficient. 

You  can  gamble  father  did  not  make  any  false 
motions  about  that  fire.  He  had  been  building 
it  for  sixty  years  and  knew  how.  Besides,  it  was 
cold. 

The  preparations  for  these  matutinal  pyrotechnics 
were  made  on  the  evening  previous.  Before  he  went 
to  bed,  father  went  out  into  the  kitchen  and  got  his 
kindling-wood  ready  for  the  next  morning.  He  had 
a  trusty  hatchet  sacred  to  the  purpose  of  splitting  kin- 
dling, and  with  the  said  hatchet  he  would  reduce  cer- 
tain pine  boards  to  inflammable  sizes.  The  day  of 
the  ten-cent  bundle  of  kindling  wood,  with  resin  on  the 
end — the  sort  you  buy  at  a  delicatessen  store — had 
255 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

not  yet  dawned  in  American  family  life,  and  in  those 
days  people  did  things  for  themselves. 

After  father  had  split  his  own  kindling-wood,  the 
last  thing  he  did  was  to  take  a  straight  pine  stick ;  and 
with  the  trusty  pocketknife — which  at  that  time  made 
part  of  every  householder's  personal  equipment,  for 
all  householders  then  chewed  tobacco  instead  of  smok- 
ing cigarettes — raise  along  the  edge  of  this  stick  a 
series  of  undetached  shavings,  which  stood  out  fan- 
like  from  the  parent  stem,  fine  and  thin  at  the  free 
ends.  This  stick  was  the  essential  ingredient  of  the 
next  morning's  fire.  It  is  very  much  worth  remem- 
bering as  a  historical  institution  in  American  folk- 
lore. 

The  next  morning,  rising  in  his  whiskers  and  carpet 
slippers,  father  would  pass  through  the  "settin' " 
room,  "dinin'  "  room  and  pantry  to  the  kitchen.  There 
he  would  make  a  pass  or  so  with  the  poker  to  free  the 
grate  of  ashes,  take  off  the  stove-lid  and  insert  his 
prepared  shaving-stick  in  such  fashion  that  the  free 
edges  of  the  shavings  would  just  protrude  through  the 
firegrate. 

Over  this  he  would  place  small  sticks,  then  larger 
sticks,  then  dry  stovewood;  and  then  other  stove- 
wood — or  maybe  soft  coal.  After  that  he  would  re- 
place the  stove-lid.  Then  he  would  open  the  two  little 
doors  in  front  of  the  stove  above  the  hearth,  or  cast- 
256 


YOUR  CAMPFIRE 

iron  apron,  which  is  in  front  of  all  good  cook-stoves. 

Probably  you  do  not  know  what  this  sort  of  hearth 
is,  since  you  mostly  have  read  about  hearths  in  books 
that  have  Yuletide  written  on  them  in  gold  letters,  and 
that  cost  anywhere  from  ten  cents  to  a  dollar-forty, 
according  to  the  value  you  place  on  the  folks  you  send 
them  to.  A  real,  true,  honest-to-goodness  hearth  is 
made  of  cast-iron  and  is  situated  east  of  the  cook-stove 
and  south  of  the  two  little  doors  aforesaid. 

Well,  anyhow,  when  those  two  little  doors  were 
pushed  open  father  saw  the  edge  of  his  shaving-stick 
protruding  between  the  bars  of  the  firegrate — not  the 
sort  of  shaving-stick  you  use,  but  the  one  he  had  made 
the  night  before.  Whereupon  he  scratched  a  match 
somewhere  and  touched  off  the  shavings,  drawing  the 
little  doors  a  trifle  closer  together  and  fixing  the 
damper  in  the  back  part  of  the  stove  so  she  would 
draw  well.  After  this  father  went  back  to  the  sit- 
ting-room, shook  down  the  baseburner,  put  in  another 
hod  of  coal,  and  went  back  to  bed  to  get  warm. 

About  this  time  you  could  hear  sister  begin  to  move 
round  upstairs,  where  there  was  no  fire,  about  as  swift 
as  a  grasshopper  in  the  dew.  Then  sister  would  stroll 
congealedly  down  and  put  some  more  wood  on  the 
kitchen  fire  and  get  the  crock  out  from  behind  the 
cook  stove,  where  it  had  been  wrapped  up  over  night, 
and  start  in  to  getting  the  cakes  ready — What? 
257 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

Afterward,  when  the  baseburner  was  beginning  to 
get  red  round  the  middle,  buddy — also,  son — would 
get  up  and  before  long  all  would  meet  in  the  sitting- 
room  for  family  prayers.  We  needed  them?  Maybe. 
But  then,  as  compared  to  the  be-janitored  flat  of  to- 
day, I  am  not  so  sure. 

Still,  you  can  find  the  same  stars  and,  for  that  mat- 
ter, can  use  the  same  old  kindling  stick  in  making  a 
fire  for  yourself  out  of  doors ;  in  fact  you  will  find  it 
extremely  useful  in  building  a  campfire — which  is  just 
what  we  started  to  remark  a  while  back. 

Now,  to  use  again  the  same  phrase  you  did  in  your 
first  composition,  there  are  a  great  many  kinds  of 
campfires — too  numerous  to  mention.  Bad  as  some 
of  them  are  from  a  technical  standpoint,  none  of  them 
is  anything  but  good  from  a  human  standpoint.  Most 
of  them  are  built  by  amateurs,  and  this  is  eminently 
fitting. 

The  bigoted  old-timer,  who  knows  it  all  and  insists 
that  his  way  is  the  only  good  way,  is  of  all  beings  the 
most  intolerable.  The  amateur  needs  but  little  of  his 
lore,  but  would  best  figure  out  for  himself. what  he 
wants  to  do  and  how  to  do  it — which  is  the  practical 
and  usual  way  in  human  life. 

One  good  rule  is  advanced  by  most  authorities — 
and  that  is  not  to  build  a  campfire  too  large.  A  small 
campfire  is  warmer,  safer,  more  convenient  and  more 
258 


YOUR  CAMPFIRE 

comfortable.  Of  course  your  fire  must  be  larger  than 
that  of  the  old  cook  stove,  unless  you  have  contrived 
some  retaining  walls  to  hold  in  its  heat.  A  big  camp- 
fire  takes  too  much  wood,  is  too  apt  to  set  the  tent  on 
fire,  even  if  it  does  not  set  the  woods  on  fire ;  and  it  is 
hard  to  put  out  when  you  leave.  It  will  make  you 
uncomfortable  when  you  cook  at  it  and  it  will  burn 
the  grub.  Still,  you  will  probably  build  your  own 
campfire  just  as  large  as  you  like.  Pax  vobiscum!  It 
is  much  better  than  not  to  build  it  at  all. 

Different  campfires  are  used  for  different  purposes. 
Suppose  you  were  traveling  fast  through  a  country, 
making  one-night  stands  and  cooking  four  meals  a 
day.  That  requires  one  sort  of  fire.  A  permanent 
camp,  where  there  is  plenty  of  wood,  asks  for  a  dif- 
ferent sort.  Deep  snow  requires  yet  another  kind — a 
pleasant  summer  site  still  another.  A  score  of  things 
may  affect  the  fashion  of  your  campfire,  and  it  is  your 
own  part  to  make  each  fire  in  workmanlike  fashion, 
adjusted  to  the  needs  of  the  hour. 

A  very  common  rule  laid  down  by  makers  of  helps 
on  outdoor  sports  is  that  the  campfire  should  be  laid 
between  two  small  green  logs,  each  four  or  five  feet 
long,  hewn  flat  on  one  side,  and  placed  six  inches 
apart — or  maybe  sixteen  inches ;  I  forget  which.  That 
is  all  very  well  if  you  have  plenty  of  time  to  make 
your  fire. 

259 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

An  Indian  lives  out  of  doors  all  his  life,  but  he 
never  builds  a  campfire  that  way.  Neither  can  you 
build  a  campfire  that  an  Indian  will  not  take  apart 
and  make  over  again  to  suit  his  own  notion.  Some 
of  these  notions  are  gpod  ones  and  are  accepted  by 
white  men  that  live  in  Indian  countries. 

Suppose  you  are  traveling  with  a  party  of  Indians 
or  breeds,  with  a  pack  train  or  canoe,  in  some  North- 
ern wilderness  country.  You  will  not  see  any  of  these 
nice  little  side  logs  cut  at  all.  Perhaps,  also,  you  will 
revise  your  idea  as  to  the  assertion  that  the  Indian 
always  builds  a  small  fire.  Sometimes  he  does  be- 
cause he  is  lazy.  Sometimes  he  does  not  because  he 
can  save  time  by  not  doing  so. 

In  fast  traveling,  forty  minutes  is  about  all  the 
time  allowed  to  unpack,  make  a  fire,  cook  a  meal, 
wash  the  dishes,  repack,  smoke  a  pipe,  and  hit  the 
trail  again.  Your  half-breed  usually  makes  one  of 
these  kettle  fires  out  of  poles — long  ones,  dry  ones; 
such  as  he  can  find  already  drying  on  the  ground.  He 
puts  these  poles  together  not  in  cobhouse  fashion  and 
not  in  a  loose  heap,  but  in  a  long  pile,  side  by  side. 
He  will  provide  as  kindling  certain  dry  twigs,  if  there 
are  any.  Sometimes  he  will  use  birchbark,  but  most 
often  you  will  find  him  whittling  up  a  row  of  semi- 
detached shavings  on  the  side  of  a  stick.  This  is  pre- 
cisely father's  old  kindling-stick.  No  one  knows  who 
260 


YOUR  CAMPFIRE 

first  discovered  it,  but  it  is  worth  remembering  by  any- 
one who  needs  to  start  a  fire  out  of  doors. 

When  Pierre  has  raised  some  shavings  on  the  edge 
of  his  stick,  he  stands  it  upside  down  under  his  pole 
pile  and  throws  some  loose,  dry  kindling  over  it — • 
perhaps  sheltering  it  all  with  his  hat  if  it  is  raining. 
Then  he  touches  a  match  to  the  lower  edge  of  his 
shavings  and  by  and  by  they  set  fire  to  the  solid  stick, 
and  that  sets  fire  to  the  twigs,  which  in  turn  touch  off 
the  whole  works.  And  this  fire,  begun  at  the  center 
of  the  log  or  pole  heap,  spreads  both  ways. 

There  are  no  side  logs,  because  there  has  been  no 
time  to  get  them — it  would  be  considered  finicky  to 
use  them;  but  as  the  poles  burn  in  a  bright  flame 
Pierre  hangs  his  tea-kettle  in  the  flame,  dependent 
from  the  end  of  a  slant  stick,  the  butt  of  which  he 
has  stuck  into  the  ground — the  tea-stick  or  'quorgan 
stick  of  the  Northern  woods.  He  does  not  usually  set 
the  tea-kettle  down  on  the  poles;  but  perhaps  he  can 
find  a  place  where  two  of  them  will  hold  a  frying-pan. 
And  at  the  other  end  of  his  long  fire  he  will  hang  the 
stew-kettle,  which  was  not  cleaned  out  after  the  last 
meal — an  affair  of  squirrel,  rabbit,  duck,  partridge, 
rice,  potatoes,  onions,  or  anything  else  that  happens 
to  be  in  camp.  A  good  stew-pot  may  begin  at  the 
first  of  a  month  and  still  be  going  thirty  days  later, 
additions  being  made  from  meal  to  meal. 
261 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

Besides  these  three  utensils,  there  may  or  may  not 
be  another  in  which  to  boil  dish  water.  If  so  there 
will  be  room  for  all  on  this  long  fire,  which  has  been 
kicked  together  with  no  loss  of  time  at  all. 

The  Indian's  idea  of  a  long,  narrow  fire  is  a  good 
one.  It  is  only  the  rank  tenderfoot  who  builds  a  cir- 
cular fire,  made  by  heaping  the  firewood  up  in  the  cen- 
ter so  that  the  flames  run  entirely  about.  You  cannot 
get  near  to  that  kind  of  fire,  which  is  wasteful  of  heat 
and  room  alike.  So  a  general  rule  regarding  your 
campfire  is  to  make  it  long  and  narrow. 

An  Indian  does  not  usually  build  a  big  campfire  to 
last  through  the  night,  unless  the  weather  is  very  cold. 
He  will  have  far  less  bed  covering  than  a  white  man 
and  in  a  single  blanket  will  sleep  out  in  weather  where 
a  white  man  would  perish  in  four  times  as  much  bed- 
covering. 

A  campfire  really  has  two  purposes — it  may  be  used 
for  cooking  or  for  warmth,  or  for  both.  If  you  cook 
in  kettles  or  pots  you  can  use  the  direct  flame.  If  you 
are  frying  or  broiling  you  want  to  cook  over  the  coals 
and  not  over  the  flames. 

There  are  all  sorts  of  fads  and  poses  in  sport,  as 
in  everything  else.  Some  of  us  like  to  affect  the  D. 
Boone  and  S.  Kenton  simplicity  stunt  and  scorn  to 
use  anything  modern.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  you  can- 
not very  well  beat  a  Dutch  oven  as  a  camp  utensil,  but 
262 


YOUR  CAMPFIRE 

at  the   same  time,   an  aluminum  reflector  is  much 
lighter  and  will  cook  just  as  good  biscuits. 

Also,  a  little  folding  grid,  with  legs  that  you  can 
drive  down  into  the  ground,  is  something  that  weighs 
very  little  and  is  very  useful  in  steadying  a  coffee-pot 
or  holding  a  broiler.  Drive  them  right  down  over 
your  bed  of  coals,  so  that  the  top  will  be  only  four  or 
five  inches  above  the  ground.  It  will  be  handy  to  set 
things  on;  and  if  you  do  not  try  to  use  too  much  fire 
it  will  make  a  very  comfortable  broiler. 

Neither,  as  I  have  often  said,  need  you  despise  the 
long,  wooden-handled  fork  of  commerce,  or  a  patent 
handle  for  your  frying-pan — one  into  which  you  can 
drive  a  long  pole,  so  that  you  may  sit  off  from  the  fire 
and  cook  without  burning  your  hands — if  you  do  not 
abjure  all  handles  and  stick  to  the  old-timer's  pliers. 
Here  is  where  your  gloves  come  in  handy. 

Of  course  these  things  will  sound  effete  to  some,  and 
to  yet  others  not  sufficiently  effete.  The  latter  will 
want  to  rig  a  stove-top  or  a  vast  gridiron  made  of 
steel  bars  laid  across  the  two  side  logs,  as  recom- 
mended by  the  textbooks. 

If  you  are  actually  in  the  wilderness  your  fare  will 
be  rough  and  it  will  be  condensed — such  stuff  as  beans, 
dried  fruits,  and  the  like.  It  takes  time  to  cook  beans. 
An  iron  pot  is  best ;  but  you  can  do  very  well  with  a 
tin  vessel  if  you  have  nothing  better. 
263 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

Before  you  build  your  long-pole  fire  take  the  butt 
of  the  ax  and  knock  out  a  trench,  over  which  the  fire 
may  afterward  be  built.  It  will  IT  i  with  coals  gradu- 
ally, and  after  you  have  finished  the  meal  you  may 
set  the  bean-pot  down  in  this  trench,  and  cover  it  with 
ashes  and  coals  and  let  it  cook  over  night — shifting 
your  campfire  to  some  other  point  if  it  must  burn  all 
night. 

Suppose  you  are  fairly  modern  and  fairly  well 
equipped,  that  you  want  to  have  a  quiet  time  in  camp 
in  the  woods,  and  that  you  are  out  in  the  fall  when 
the  nights  are  cool,  though  there  is  no  snow  as  yet. 
Your  first  thought  is  a  wall  tent  and  a  sheet-iron 
stove.  Men  can  winter  in  these  conditions,  but  it 
would  be  hard  to  devise  anything  more  uncomfortable 
or  more  unhealthy.  You  will  be  more  comfortable  if 
your  tent  is  open  in  front,  so  that  you  may  get  the 
light  and  heat  of  a  good  campfire. 

It  will  be  all  the  better  if  your  tent  has  a  back  so 
arranged  that  it  will  reflect  the  heat  down.  The  open- 
face  camp  or  shanty  or  lean-to  looks  like  all  out-of- 
doors,  but  it  is  quite  comfortable  if  your  campfire  is 
made  correctly  and  kept  up  adequately. 

I  proved  this  not  long  ago  in  the  wintertime,  in  one 

of  the  Southern  states,   under  circumstances  which 

convinced  all  the  neighborhood  that  I  was  crazy — and 

which  convinced  me,  on  the  other  hand,  that  every- 

264 


YOUR  CAMPFIRE 

body  else  was  crazy  who  was  not  privileged  to  sleep 
in  precisely  the  same  way. 

It  came  about  that  a  hospitable  planter  insisted  on 
sending  down  a  couple  of  negro  boys  to  do  the  camp 
work.  These  boys  pitched  the  tent,  secured  abundant 
hay  for  a  bed,  and  provided  an  excellent  woodpile 
of  sound  oak  timber  eighteen  inches  in  diameter — 
likewise  other  oak,  hickory  and  divers  priceless  ma- 
terials of  like  sort,  wherewith  to  light  the  altar  fire. 

I  slept  alone  a  few  nights  thus — the  fire  in  front, 
the  same  old  stars  above.  It  was  warm  in  my  tent.  I 
do  not  know  just  how  it  was  in  the  shelter  where  the 
negro  boys  lay  huddled  in  their  cotton  quilts,  but  it 
was  fine,  along  toward  morning,  when  the  dawn  was 
becoming  gray  and  the  fire  had  burned  low,  just  to 
follow  the  advice  of  the  old  planter:  "Lie  still  and 
holler  for  the  colored  population !" 

I  have  never  found  a  scheme  that  beat  this,  though 
it  is  not  in  the  textbooks.  It  was  a  trifle  hard  on  the 
youngsters,  but  they  were  used  to  it  anyhow;  so  they 
would  get  up,  build  up  the  fire,  cook  a  very  decent 
breakfast  of  broiled  quail  and  bacon,  with  a  good  cup 
of  coffee — and  then  stand  round,  afraid  to  wake  the 
boss  up  for  breakfast.  Can  you  beat  that  for  a  camp- 
fire  ?  You  cannot ! 


XIII 
GETTING  LOST  AND  WHAT  TO  DO  ABOUT  IT 


XIII 
GETTING  LOST  AND  WHAT  TO  DO  ABOUT  IT 

A  PARTY  of  deer-hunters,  encamped  last  fall 
in  an  upper  Wisconsin  county,  one  after- 
noon met  a  wild  man,  who  hurried  from  the 
forest  and  threw  himself  face  down  upon  the  railroad 
track  near  where  they  stood.  Approaching,  they  found 
he  was  not  intoxicated,  but  lost.  He  was  wholly  ex- 
hausted and  almost  insane.  His  clothing,  which  had 
been  wet  to  the  waist,  was  frozen  about  him.  He  was 
the  picture  of  a  lost  man — so  confused  he  barely  could 
answer  questions. 

"I'm  all  in,  boys!"  was  his  first  lucid  remark. 
"Where  am  I?" 

They  told  him  he  was  not  far  from  Roswell,  a 
near-by  railroad  station. 

"And  I  came  from  up  the  Bluebill  Branch,  thirty 
miles  away!"  said  he  after  a  time.  "What  time  is  it?" 
They  told  him  it  was  three  o'clock.  "This  must  be 
my  second  day,"  said  he.  "I  know  I  walked  all  night. 
I  walked  into  a  lake  somewhere  and  got  wet,  and 
spoiled  my  matches  so  I  couldn't  start  a  fire.  I  left 
269 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

camp  at  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning  and  was  lost  an 
hour  after  that ;  and  I've  walked  ever  since.  I've  been 
out  either  one  night  or  two  nights — I  don't  know 
which;  and  God  knows  how  many  miles  I've  gone! 
I'm  all  in!" 

He  had  been  out  only  one  night,  but  during  that 
time  and  the  two  days  of  his  travel  he  had  covered 
fifty  miles  or  more  on  foot  in  the  tangled  forest  and 
briile.  He  had  come  south  between  two  parallel  rail- 
road lines,  either  of  which  he  could  easily  have  reached 
by  a  few  hours'  walk.  Had  he  gone  north,  beyond 
the  terminal  of  the  railway  on  the  west,  he  would 
never  have  been  heard  of  again.  His  was  a  typical 
case  of  getting  lost  and  having  good  luck  in  getting 
found.  Evidently  he  had  first  lost  his  bearings  when 
not  more  than  a  mile  or  two  from  camp. 

This  man  was  young  and  strong,  else  he  could  not 
have  survived  the  hardships  of  his  journey.  He  was  a 
stranger  in  that  country.  Yet  only  a  year  or  so  ago, 
not  far  from  that  same  place,  an  old  woodsman — a 
native — got  lost  and  turned  up  at  Crystal  Falls,  thirty 
miles  or  more  out  of  the  way,  and  unable  to  tell  how 
he  got  there.  Again,  not  so  far  from  that  same  coun- 
try, a  tenderfoot  was  lost  for  two  days  and  nights. 
He  was  trailed  by  good  woodsmen  over  all  sorts  of 
country.  At  last  the  trail  stopped  at  a  log,  where  the 
man  had  sat  down  exhausted.  He  had  fallen  over 
270 


GETTING  LOST 

backward — and  lay  there  dead,  a  victim  of  his  own 
panic.  He  literally  had  run  himself  to  death. 

There  is  special  danger  for  city  men  or  middle-aged 
men  who  get  lost  and  are  seized  by  panic.  Nearly 
always  toward  nightfall  a  man  not  in  thoroughly  good 
physical  condition  is  apt  to  get  chilly.  Now  give  him 
a  panic  in  the  dark,  and  let  him  run  and  fall  and 
perspire,  and  pant  and  run  some  more,  and  he  is  ready 
to  chill  and  die  without  much  further  preparation,  if 
the  weather  is  very  cold. 

Each  year  in  the  deer-hunting  country  men  are  re- 
ported missing.  Some  of  them  are  killed  and  some 
of  them  are  lost.  Hardly  any  party  of  strangers  goes 
into  the  wilderness  country  without  knowing  a  lost- 
man  scare.  The  man  who  has  been  lost  and  who  has 
later  stumbled  on  the  right  way  is  apt  to  be  ashamed 
to  tell  of  his  experience.  Sometimes  he  will  see  some 
familiar  landmark  or  some  road  he  recognizes.  More 
often  he  runs  across  some  other  hunter. 

In  a  deer-hunt  last  fall  I  met  a  man  who  said  he 
was  once  lost  when  a  boy  on  his  father's  Michigan 
farm.  He  had  gone  into  the  bush  to  drive  up  the 
family  cow  and  in  some  way  got  turned  round.  In 
a  strange,  inverted  sort  of  world  he  must  have  walked 
past  his  own  home,  past  some  big  trees  that  were 
prominent  on  the  roadway,  and  up  to  the  house  of  a 
neighbor  two  miles  away.  Here,  in  a  country  with 
271 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

which  he  was  personally  familiar  all  his  life,  he  asked 
where  his  own  father's  farm  was  and  was  shown.  On 
the  way  home  down  the  road,  in  some  way  the  points 
of  the  compass  whirled  about,  all  the  world  straight- 
ened before  him,  and  he  knew  where  he  was ! 

This  sort  of  experience  is  not  unprecedented  by  any 
means.  There  formerly  hunted  in  upper  Wisconsin  a 
man  who  always  got  lost  when  he  left  camp.  One 
evening  he  did  not  show  up  and  the  others  were  sit- 
ting about  the  fire  waiting  and  talking.  All  at  once 
a  wild  figure  broke  open  the  door  and  sprang  into  the 
middle  of  the  room.  "Where  am  I?"  he  shrieked. 
"Where  am  I  ?"  It  was  the  lost  man — in  such  a  panic 
that  he  did  not  know  his  own  friends  or  his  own 
camp!  This  is  an  actual  instance,  and  shows  very 
clearly  into  what  state  of  mind  the  lost  man  may  get 
himself. 

There  is  a  great  difference  among  men  in  the  ability 
to  travel  safely  in  wild  country.  There  was  hunting  in 
this  same  region  this  fall  an  oldish  gentleman  who  also 
always  is  lost  as  soon  as  he  is  out  of  sight  of  camp. 
When  found  by  a  stranger  he  was  sitting  on  a  stump, 
placidly  smoking  and  admitting  that  he  did  not  know 
where  he  was.  "I  never  do,  for  that  matter,"  said  he. 
"I  make  the  boys  walk  many  an  extra  mile,  I  suppose ; 
but  I  like  the  woods  so  well  they  always  let  me  go 
along  again.  Someone  will  come  along  and  find  me 
272 


GETTING  LOST 

after  a  while;  and  meantime  it's  me  for  this  stump." 
This  same  man  once  got  within  fifty  rods  of  camp 
and  was  sitting  down  wondering  where  he  was  when 
he  met  the  search  party  starting  out  to  find  him. 

The  last  was  one  of  the  incurable  cases,  but  even 
good  woodsmen  and  guides  can  and  do  get  lost  in 
broken  country  where  the  landmarks  cannot  be  seen. 
One  of  our  party,  a  fine  woodsman  and  a  powerful 
man,  was  lost  the  best  part  of  one  afternoon  while 
his  guide  and  friend  waited  at  the  rendezvous,  where 
the  horses  of  the  three  had  been  tied  on  a  logging 
grade.  His  case  was  easy  to  explain.  We  all  thought 
the  logging  road  crossed  the  swamp  where  we  were 
hunting,  but  it  stopped  short  within  half  a  mile.  The 
hunter,  who  started  in  at  the  south  side  of  the  trail, 
at  length  swung  north  to  find  the  logging  grade.  He 
did  not  find  it,  for  the  good  reason  that  it  was  not 
there,  and  so  passed  on  deep  into  the  worst  swamp  of 
the  entire  country.  He  struck  a  creek  that  he  reasoned 
must  head  in  a  marsh  to  the  west,  but  the  going  was 
unspeakably  hard  and  darkness  at  length  approached. 
He  had  not  the  slightest  idea  where  his  friends  and 
the  horses  were  at  that  time.  He  was  just  preparing 
to  stop  and  build  a  fire  when  he  heard  a  rifle-shot, 
which  he  supposed  was  fired  by  his  friends,  though 
really  by  someone  else.  He  answered,  and  we  sup- 
posed the  shot  came  from  our  friend.  So  we  started 
273 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

signaling  by  rifle-fire  and  at  last  got  him  out.  It  was 
then  dark,  and  we  rode  five  miles  to  camp,  all  getting 
lost  twice  in  that  process.  We  had  a  fine  opportunity 
to  see  how  different  a  country  looks  after  darkness 
has  changed  all  its  contours  and  wiped  out  all  its 
landmarks. 

Now  this  man  was  not  really  lost  at  all.  Within  a 
couple  of  miles  he  knew  where  he  was,  though  much 
confused  by  the  bog  holes  and  thickets  of  the  swamp. 
He  had  hunted  the  country  for  years  and  knew  per- 
fectly the  direction  in  which  camp  lay.  Simply  he 
had  got  into  a  country  on  which  he  had  not  planned. 
Supposing  that  he  could  find  the  horses  without  diffi- 
culty, he  had  left  his  coat  and  lunchbag  on  his  saddle. 
He  had  no  ax,  but  did  have  matches  and  a  compass. 
Best  of  all,  he  had  his  wits  about  him;  and,  being  a 
powerful  chap,  he  would  have  passed  the  night  with^ 
out  serious  hardship.  Of  course  had  he  blundered  out 
at  the  head  of  the  creek  before  dark  he  would  have 
seen  the  trail  to  an  old  logging  camp  and  would  have 
known  where  he  was.  He  had  merely  forgotten  one 
of  the  rigid  camp  rules  and  failed  to  start  home  at 
half  past  two  or  three  in  the  afternoon. 

What  should  his  friends  do  in  a  case  like  that? 

Had  we  not  found  him  we  should  have  waited  until 

dark,  built  a  fire,  and  fired  rifle-signals.    In  a  country 

where  there  is  much  rifle-fire  going  on  no  signaling  is 

274 


GETTING  LOST 

of  value  until  after  clarlc.  Had  we  got  no  answer  we 
should  have  taken  his  horse,  knowing  that  it  would 
kill  itself  trying  to  break  loose  if  left  alone,  and  all  of 
us  would  have  ridden  to  camp  to  organize  a  larger 
search  party.  We  should  have  built  a  beacon  fire  on 
a  tall  hill  according  to  a  camp  agreement.  Had  the 
large  party  not  found  him  that  night  the  swamp  would 
have  been  surrounded  the  next  day  and  he  would  have 
been  picked  up  without  fail.  He  was  obeying  another 
strict  camp  rule,  which  is  that  if  a  man  is  lost  he  must 
stop  and  build  a  fire,  and  wait  until  he  is  found.  That 
is  all  he  safely  can  do. 

Every  country  has  its  own  rules  and  conditions. 
Sometimes  there  are  few  trails  that  are  unsafe  to  take 
and  follow  out;  and,  again,  an  unknown  trail  is  risky 
to  follow.  A  slashed-off  country,  full  of  old  logging 
grades  leading  nowhere  in  particular,  is  one  of  the 
most  troublesome  to  hunt  over.  Such  a  country  some- 
times is  broken  by  countless  choppy  hills  and  hollows, 
covered  with  bride  and  second  growth.  Such  a  region 
at  night  is  practically  impassable.  Virgin  forest  with 
few  trails  is  an  easier  hunting-ground. 

What  ought  one  to  do  if  he  goes,  say,  on  a  deer- 
hunt  into  wild  country  ?  Naturally  he  will  have  guides 
or  friends,  but  he  ought  not  to  depend  on  these  too 
much,  else  he  will  never  learn  to  hunt  alone;  nor,  on 
the  other  hand,  should  he  be  too  keen  about  starting 
275 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

out  alone  at  first.  He  ought,  first,  to  get  the  large  map 
features  of  the  country  in  his  mind — to  know  where 
the  nearest  railroad  line  or  the  nearest  large  river  is 
to  be  found,  or  some  prominent  road  leading  to  a 
town  or  camp.  If  possible  he  ought  to  have  a  map 
made  of  the  locality,  showing  landmarks  or  spots 
easily  recognized.  Especially  ought  he  to  get  in  his 
mind  some  landmark  near  the  camp.  When  going 
out  from  camp  he  ought  to  turn  round  and  look  back, 
remembering  that  it  is  this  reverse  of  the  country  he 
will  see  when  he  is  coming  home  in  the  evening. 

For  instance,  near  our  camp  last  fall  there  was  a 
hardwood  ridge  cut  into  a  knife-like  edge,  which  ran 
down  to  a  notch  in  the  skyline  of  other  timber-growth. 
In  this  notch  lay  our  camp  on  the  shore  of  a  lake,  and 
over  the  notch  could  be  seen  the  tops  of  a  few  pines, 
the  only  ones  thereabout — one  pine  with  a  forked  top. 
That  notch  was  an  excellent  landmark,  even  in  the 
dusk.  A  better  one  for  long  range  existed  in  three 
forty-acre  tracts  of  tall  green  pine,  the  only  uncut 
pine  for  miles  about.  This  timber  lay  two  miles  north 
of  camp.  The  use  of  these  two  landmarks  would  give 
any  intelligent  hunter  a  north -and-south  baseline  of 
more  than  three  miles;  so  that,  after  learning  which 
were  camp-trails  and  which  were  abandoned  logging 
roads,  he  could  feel  pretty  safe — at  least  in  clear 
weather.  A  lake,  a  long  valley,  a  tall  mountain  peak, 
276 


GETTING  LOST 

will  serve  equally  well  in  a  country  of  bolder  topog- 
raphy. 

Yet  the  hunter,  excitedly  following  a  deer-trail,  is 
often  led  into  the  most  dangerous  part  of  his  sport — 
that  of  passing  landmarks  without  noting  them.  At 
this  same  camp  a  deer-hunter  of  thirty  years'  stand- 
ing passed  entirely  to  the  west  of  the  green  timber 
above  mentioned,  crossed  the  only  road  on  which  there 
was  any  steel,  and  wandered  on  to  the  west  and  north. 
Suddenly  he  heard  a  locomotive  whistle  back  of  him, 
when  he  knew  it  ought  to  be  west  of  him.  He  had  no 
recollection  whatever  of  passing  the  railroad  track 
that  had  been  established  as  a  deadline  for  him !  Hap- 
pily about  this  time  an  Indian  came  by  who  was  will- 
ing, for  a  five-dollar  bill,  to  show  him  the  way  home 
by  a  short  cut.  This  man  was  heading  straight  north 
toward  Lake  Superior,  entirely  out  of  his  hunting 
country;  and  yet  he  was  an  old  hunter,  fully  ac- 
quainted for  miles  about.  So  much  for  trailing  a  deer 
too  closely. 

It  is  apparent  to  any  one  that  one  good  landmark 
is  worth  a  dozen  compasses — so  long  as  one  can  see  the 
landmark.  The  man  who  becomes  confused  and  wan- 
ders about  vaguely  is  living  in  a  world  entirely  strange 
to  him.  His  subconscious  mind  has  control  of  him, 
and  not  his  conscious,  reasoning  mind.  When  by 
accident  he  catches  sight  of  a  familiar  landmark  in- 
277 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

stant  correlation  of  his  two  minds  takes  place.  The 
world  swings  entirely  about  and  falls  into  its  ancient 
order.  The  compass  rarely  will  do  so  much  for  him; 
yet  the  compass  is  the  only  reliance  in  storm,  dark- 
ness or  fog. 

Any  man  who  goes  into  the  wild  regions  ought  to 
know  how  to  use  a  compass.  A  study  of  it  will  intro- 
duce him  to  the  psychology  of  getting  lost.  The  truth 
is  that  we  are  made  up  largely  of  a  subconscious  sur- 
vival— a  bundle  of  doubts,  fears,  superstitions  and  ter- 
rors handed  down  to  us  from  the  Stone  Age.  Given 
certain  conditions,  we  dread  the  dark;  we  anticipate 
dinosaurs  and  dragons;  we  cry  aloud  before  the  saber- 
toothed  tiger.  The  subconscious  mind  governs  us. 
We  are  indeed  as  a  reed  shaken  with  the  wind. 

What  will  serve  to  restore  the  control  of  reason  in 
such  a  case  as  this?  In  our  deer-camp  above  men- 
tioned all  these  questions  were  well  discussed  by  many 
men  experienced  in  the  woods. 

"One  compass  is  of  no  use,"  said  one  gentleman. 
"For  that  reason  I  always  carry  two."  At  once  all 
eyes  were  turned  on  him,  for  here  indeed  was  an  idea. 
He  went  on  to  explain :  "I  know  of  this  being  tried," 
said  he.  "When  a  man  has  the  panic  of  being  lost 
fully  upon  him  he  never  believes  his  compass;  but 
when  he  takes  out  his  second  compass  and  sees  it 
pointing  just  the  way  his  first  one  does,  somehow 
278 


GETTING  LOST 

his  reason  gets  a  sudden  jolt  and  he  concludes  that 
the  majority  must  be  right.  That  starts  him  to  rea- 
soning again,  and  then  he  is  usually  safe." 

I  consider  that  chance  advice  to  be  the  safest  I 
have  ever  heard  for  the  man  who  is  in  danger  of  get- 
ting lost.  Take  two  compasses !  You  are  sure  to  be- 
lieve both,  though  you  might  believe  neither  but  for 
the  other. 

Of  course  a  compass  cannot  take  you  home  unless 
you  know  in  what  direction  home  lies.  Hence  you 
must  have  a  map,  either  in  your  pocket  or  in  your 
mind ;  and  you  must  know  where  you  are  on  that  map. 
The  general  lay  of  the  country  must  be  fixed  mentally. 
Of  course  the  average  hunter  knows  enough  to  hunt 
out  some  eminence  from  which  he  can  look  for  a 
familiar  landmark,  such  as  a  valley,  peak,  motte  or 
irregular  feature  of  the  skyline.  At  night  the  com- 
pass must  be  followed  implicitly  if  one  is  to  travel  at 
all.  The  stars  are  not  of  much  use  in  timber  country 
where  the  going  is  difficult  and  where  the  course  is 
often  changed.  I  have  traveled  on  the  plains  fifty 
miles  at  night  by  using  the  stars,  and  lesser  distances 
on  the  prairies.  In  both  of  these  countries  all  the  con- 
tours are  changed  by  darkness ;  but  sometimes  the  go- 
ing is  good,  so  that  a  starline  can  be  held. 

If  you  have  a  good  compass  you  do  not  need  to 
look  at  the  sun,  or  attempt  the  foolish  process  of  find- 
279 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

ing  the  north  by  looking  for  the  heaviest  moss  on  tree- 
trunks.  Suppose  there  is  no  moss  or  suppose  there 
are  no  treetrunks — or  even  suppose  there  are  both — 
you  are  not  much  better  off.  In  most  of  Michigan 
and  Wisconsin  the  hemlock  tips  point  northeast;  but 
suppose  you  have  no  hemlock !  You  can  find  north  by 
the  use  of  your  watch  in  the  sun,  or  by  the  use  of  a 
pencil  point  and  the  reflection  on  your  thumbnail  if 
there  is  no  sun ;  but  it  is  a  great  deal  simpler  to  find 
north  by  a  good  compass,  and  you  never  ought  to  go 
into  the  woods  without  one.  And  you  should  remem- 
ber that  the  compass  without  a  map,  in  either  your 
pocket  or  your  mind,  is  worthless.  Never  hunt  in  any 
strange  country  without  knowing  the  big  trails  and  the 
big  streams  and  the  big  valleys.  Locate  your  camp  by 
some  very  prominent  landmark. 

If  you  do  get  lost,  which  may  happen  very  quickly 
even  to  a  good  man,  remember  the  psychology  of  get- 
ting lost,  and  try  to  let  the  reasoning,  civilized  man 
overcome  the  terrified  cave  man.  There  are  no  dino- 
saurs today.  Sit  down  and  think  it  over.  Light  a 
pipe  if  you  smoke.  Build  a  fire  in  any  case.  Look  at 
your  compass  and  then  think  of  something  else.  If  it 
is  nearly  dark  and  you  must  lie  out,  do  not  wait  too 
long.  Darkness  comes  at  four  o'clock  in  winter  and 
it  becomes  light  at  six  the  next  morning — and  it  takes 
a  lot  of  wood  to  burn  fourteen  or  sixteen  hours.  Get 
280 


GETTING  LOST 

behind  some  windbreak  and  have  plenty  of  heavy 
wood  for  your  fire.  You  can  build  two  smaller  fires, 
and  so  keep  warm  on  both  sides.  If  it  is  bitter  cold 
you  should  not  sleep  very  much,  but  remain  sitting 
up.  Always  have  some  wood  close  at  hand  to  throw 
on  the  fire  should  you  wake  up  chilled  and  shivering. 
Don't  eat  snow,  and  drink  hot  water  rather  than  cold 
if  you  have  any  way  of  boiling  it.  If  it  is  very  cold 
build  a  fire ;  then  rake  it  away  and  lie  on  the  warmed 
ground.  Do  not  brood  or  think,  but  keep  busy. 
Whistle  once  in  a  while.  If  you  have  two  compasses 
look  at  both  of  them.  When  in  doubt  get  some  more 
wood,  for  it  certainly  will  take  a  lot. 

Deer-hunters  are  more  apt  to  get  lost  than  anyone 
else,  as  they  go  into  wilder  country.  In  the  fall  one 
wears  rather  heavy  clothing,  and  the  temptation  is  to 
cut  down  all  else  as  light  as  possible.  These  things, 
however,  you  ought  to  have  with  you  if  you  are  in  a 
strange  country :  two  compasses — not  one ;  two  match- 
boxes, one  absolutely  water-proof  and  held  in  reserve; 
an  axe  with  a  good  edge;  a  knife  with  a  good,  strong 
blade;  a  lunch  of  some  sort — or,  better  still,  some 
prunes  or  raisins  and  cakes  of  chocolate. 

This  equipment  will  do  you  no  good  if  you  do  not 

keep  it  on  your  person;  so,  though  it  may  make  you 

seem  a  marked  man  in  a  party  of  old  hunters  who  are 

familiar  with  the  country,  it  is  just  as  well  to  stick  to 

281 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

the  full  outfit.  Then  if  you  are  caught  out  at  night 
you  can  make  yourself  pretty  comfortable. 

The  man  who  has  lain  out  overnight,  and  who  is 
found  comfortable  and  in  possession  of  his  self-con- 
trol the  next  day  by  his  friends,  is  usually  looked  on 
with  respect  rather  than  ridicule.  If  that  same  man, 
however,  goes  crazy  and  starts  what  may  be  a  march 
of  death,  driven  blindly  through  the  wilderness  ahead 
of  his  own  ancient  superstitions,  he  is  apt  to  lose  a 
certain  part  of  his  own  self-respect.  He  will  always 
fear  again  that  panic-stricken  man  hidden  within  his 
own  soul. 

When  first  you  feel  the  panic,  therefore,  pull  your- 
self together  strongly.  Do  all  you  can  to  whip  that 
subconscious  man.  Light  your  fire  and  your  pipe, 
whistle,  and  make  up  some  story  to  tell  your  grand- 
children about  the  bogyman  who  stalks  abroad  at 
night  and  the  banshee  that  howls  dismally  aloft  among 
the  pines;  but,  for  yourself,  do  not  believe  in  the 
saber-toothed  tiger,  the  dinosaur,  the  bogyman  or  the 
banshee.  They  belong  to  that  dangerous  subcon- 
scious mind  that  is  the  source  of  so  many  of  our  evils. 
Shorn  of  these,  a  night  alone  in  the  wilderness  is  a 
wonderful  and  valuable  experience.  It  gives  a  fellow 
time  to  think  of  a  lot  of  things  of  which  few  fellows 
stop  to  think. 


XIV 
THE  FACULTY  OF  OBSERVATION 


XIV 

THE  FACULTY  OF  OBSERVATION 

WERE  three  Crees,  hight  Napisusis,  Piu, 
and  Chuck-gun,  and  these  three  with 
heathen  fervor  hated  a  certain  other 
member  of  their  tribe,  whom  all  suspected  of  witch- 
craft— the  Weestigo,  they  called  him.  Now  a  Weesti- 
go  is  either  a  medicine  man  or  a  fakir,  or  a  wizard  or 
a  cannibal,  or  all  of  these  things,  as  the  case  may  be. 
Had  the  Crees  been  negroes,  they  would  have  accused 
the  Weestigo  of  putting  a  spell  on  them.  Had  they 
been  western  white  men,  it  might  have  been  said  that 
the  Weestigo  had  them  buffaloed.  Certainly  the 
Weestigo  lived  in  personal  comfort  and  without  much 
work,  because  he  had  all  the  hunters  of  the  band 
afraid  of  him — so  afraid  that  after  a  time  they  did  not 
dare  go  out  to  run  their  traps,  lest  the  Weestigo  lie 
in  wait  for  them  to  eat  them.  Perhaps,  after  all,  the 
Weestigo  was  nothing  worse  than  an  epileptic  or  a 
lunatic,  but  to  the  tribe  he  was  bad  medicine,  and  all 
his  fellows  feared  to  lay  a  hand  on  him,  since  all  had 
that  curious  awe  of  the  Indian  for  anyone  whose  mind 
is  out  of  order. 

285 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

But  though  fear  of  the  Weestigo  paralyzed  the  busi- 
ness activities  of  the  band,  no  hand  was  raised  against 
him  by  any  man.  At  last  a  certain  baptized  woman, 
by  name  Eliza,  declared  the  men  were  not  brave.  So 
she  took  an  axe  and  therewith  did  seriously  tunk  the 
Weestigo  on  the  head ;  whereupon  Napisusis,  Piu  and 
Chuck-gun  finished  the  business,  until  the  Weestigo 
was  a  very  dead  fellow,  which  nobody  could  deny. 
Then,  because  in  his  life  he  had  been  of  a  cold  heart, 
they  cut  open  his  breast  and  poured  him  full  of  hot 
tea,  in  order  to  warm  up  his  heart,  it  being  their  in- 
tention to  give  him  a  better  start  in  the  world  to  which 
they  had  sent  him.  This  act  shows  their  kindliness. 
It  also  proves  fully  enough  that  in  killing  the  Weestigo 
they  had  no  idea  whatever  that  they  were  committing 
any  crime. 

The  government,  however,  had  different  views.  By 
and  by  officers  of  the  law  came  and  carried  off  to  a 
prison  far  to  the  eastward  the  three  men,  Napisusis, 
Piu  and  Chuck-gun.  It  was  all  a  surprising  mystery 
to  these  latter,  and  it  was  not  till  after  a  long  time 
that  they  became  aware  that  possibly  they  might  be 
hanged  for  laying  the  ghost  of  the  Weestigo.  They 
were  peaceable  and  pleasant  prisoners  and  made  no 
trouble.  They  talked  little,  but  observed  much.  By 
and  by  friends  came  to  them  and  advised  their  getting 
a  lawyer,  but  when  they  learned  what  a  lawyer  was 
286 


THE  FACULTY  OF  OBSERVATION 

they  declined.  They  had  now  been  in  jail  many  weeks. 
In  all  that  time  they  had  declined  to  talk  about  their 
case.  They  did  not  mention  the  Weestigo.  "Yes, 
maybe  he  is  dead,"  they  admitted,  "but  we  know  noth- 
ing of  it,  and  we  do  not  like  to  talk  of  the  dead." 

The  prison  life  was  hard  for  them.  By  and  by 
Chuck-gun  began  to  fail,  and  presently  died,  not  long 
before  the  time  set  for  the  trial.  Friends  still  ad- 
vised the  two  survivors  to  employ  counsel,  or  to  say 
something  about  their  own  case.  They  declined.  "We 
do  not  like  to  talk  about  the  dead,"  said  they.  They 
said  little,  but  observed  much. 

The  day  came  when  Napisusis  and  Piu  were  brought 
before  the  bar  of  justice  and  asked  to  plead.  "Yes," 
said  they,  "it  is  true  the  Weestigo  is  dead.  It  is  true 
also  that  Chuck-gun  is  dead.  But  why  do  you  ask 
us  about  these  things?  We  do  not  like  to  speak  of  the 
dead.  We  do  not  like  to  talk  of  Chuck-gun,  because, 
as  we  have  known  all  along,  it  was  Chuck-gun  who 
killed  the  Weestigo,  and  Chuck-gun  now  is  dead.  As 
for  us,  we  are  innocent.  If  Chuck-gun  were  alive  he 
would  say  so.  Therefore,  let  us  go  free." 

No  lawyer  could  have  devised  a  better  defense,  and 
as  a  matter  of  fact  they  were  set  free,  because  noth- 
ing could  be  proved  against  them.  And  the  point 
sought  to  be  made  is  that  these  red  savages,  thrown 
into  a  situation  of  extreme  danger,  among  strangers 
287 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

and  enemies,  got  themselves  out  of  their  plight  simply 
by  observing  and  studying  for  themselves.  How  they 
got  their  knowledge  of  the  white  man's  law  no  one 
knows,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact,  by  saying  little  and 
looking  much,  they  pulled  themselves  out  of  a  bad 
hole.  The  Indian  is  extraordinarily  observant.  He 
makes  his  life  secure  by  means  of  his  age-old  educa- 
tion, of  the  faculty  of  observation. 

You  may  find  many  other  instances  of  the  shrewd- 
ness of  the  Indian  when  placed  in  the  white  man's 
environment.  I  once  was  at  a  luncheon  in  New  York 
where  one  of  the  guests  was  a  Blackfoot  chief.  Part 
of  the  menu  was  terrapin.  The  old  Indian  ate  it. 
After  a  time  his  host  asked  him  what  he  thought  of 
it.  "I  knew  all  the  time  it  was  snake" — pointing  to 
the  little  crooked  bones  on  the  edge  of  his  plate,  so 
strikingly  resembling  snake-ribs.  "In  my  country  we 
do  not  eat  snakes,  but  before  I  left  home  I  told  the 
priest  that  I  would  do  in  all  things  as  the  white  men 
did,  you  see."  The  old  man  was  not  only  observing, 
but  dead  game. 

Once,  when  the  first  Hudson  Bay  steamboat  plied 
on  the  Athabasca  River,  an  old  Indian  welcomed  the 
Indian  agents  who  came  up  with  the  steamer. 

"Ah,"  said  he,  extending  his  hand,  "I  see  the  Great 
Father  has  built  a  great  canoe.  It  is  well,  because  the 
canoe  will  need  to  be  large  in  order  to  carry  all  the 
288 


THE  FACULTY  OF  OBSERVATION 

pigs  which  I  suppose  you  are  now  going  to  bring  me. 
I  would  rather  have  my  pigs  alive,  and  not  done  up  in 
cloth  with  so  much  salt  on  them." 

'Tigs — what  pigs  ?"  demanded  the  new  agent  of  the 
old  man.  And  then,  to  his  consternation,  he  discov- 
ered that  twelve  years  ago  another  agent  carelessly 
had  promised  the  old  man  a  pair  of  pigs.  Now,  a 
promise  is  a  promise  in  the  North,  and  the  government 
dare  not  break  a  promise  once  made  to  an  Indian. 
The  new  agent  was  nonplussed  when  the  Indian 
showed  him  some  pieces  of  board  covered  with  marks, 
which  he  had  scratched  into  them  with  his  knife-point. 

"All  pigs,"  said  the  old  man,  "have  each  year  as 
many  little  ones  as  I  have  fingers.  Is  it  not  so  ?"  The 
agent  admitted  that  it  was  usually  so. 

"And  the  next  year  each  of  these  pigs  would  have 
as  many  more  as  I  have  fingers.  Is  it  not  so?" 

By  this  time  the  agent  saw  where  he  was  going  to 
land.  If  each  of  these  pigs  increased  tenfold  regu- 
larly for  twelve  years,  it  would  indeed  take  a  consid- 
erable canoe  to  carry  them  all.  Yet  the  Indian  had 
been  promised  a  pair  of  pigs.  The  agent  began  to  per- 
spire, but  at  last  devised  a  plan  to  reach  the  Indian's 
intellect. 

He  picked  up  a  piece  of  bark,  and  on  it  drew  a  pic- 
ture of  a  large  female  pig  and  a  little  pig  of  the  other 
persuasion.  "See  now,"  said  he  to  the  Indian,  "wolves 
289 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

and  foxes  and  beavers  and  all  animals  come  in  this 
way,  do  they  not?  Some  of  them  may  have  as  many 
little  ones  as  you  have  fingers,  but  perhaps  half  of 
them  will  not  have  any  at  all;  is  it  not  so?" 

The  old  Indian,  with  a  slight  twinkle  in  the  cornet* 
of  his  eye,  said  it  was  so,  and  although  he  knew  little 
about  pigs,  he  had  observed  that  foxes  sometimes  had 
litters  half  male  and  half  female. 

"Then,  is  it  not  plain  that  you  will  have  to  change 
all  your  count  of  these  pigs  which  you  have  marked 
on  the  board?  And  suppose  many  of  the  little  ones 
have  been  males — how  can  you  tell  it  was  not  so? 
And  if  you  cannot,  how  can  you  say  that  this  count 
is  right,  and  that  the  Great  Father  owes  you  so  many 
pigs?" 

The  old  Indian  broke  out  into  a  laugh.  "I  was 
talking  to  you  the  way  the  trader  would  have  talked 
to  me."  So  they  compromised  on  another  pair  of  pigs 
to  be  delivered  the  next  season  by  the  steamboat. 
The  Indian  agent  kept  his  word,  and  within  half  an 
hour  after  the  two  pigs  had  landed  in  the  village  the 
Indian  dogs,  delighted  with  this  accession  to  the  fauna 
of  the  country,  ate  them  both  up.  The  old  Indian 
never  complained,  however,  but  admitted  that  the 
Great  Father  had  kept  his  word. 

Your  Indian  is  no  mean  observer,  whether  of  natu- 
ral phenomena  or  of  human  characteristics,  red  or 
290 


THE  FACULTY  OF  OBSERVATION 

white.  After  the  Riel  Rebellion  in  Canada,  a  certain 
Indian  was  put  on  trial  for  his  life.  He  talked  the 
matter  over  pretty  fully  with  the  priest  and  others. 
He  figured  that  the  judge  who  was  coming  out  to  try 
the  prisoners  in  that  district  disliked  the  Mounted  Po- 
lice, that  the  Indian  department  man  was  unfriendly 
to  the  prisoner.  The  priest  advised  the  prisoner  to  be 
tried  by  the  general  of  the  forces,  who  would  be  on 
hand  the  next  day. 

It  chanced  that  the  general  in  question  was  a  very 
vain  and  pompous  individual.  The  prisoner  observed 
him  for  a  time,  and  when  at  last  he  was  brought  be- 
fore the  general,  he  stood  for  a  time  in  silence. 
"Wah!"  he  said,  in  apparent  admiration.  "Surely, 
you  are  a  great  chief.  When  I  saw  so  many  men 
coming  in  your  army,  I  said  to  myself,  How  can  any 
man  be  wise  enough  to  command  so  many  men  as 
this  ?  And  yet  you  rule  them  and  they  all  do  as  you 
say." 

"You  are  a  cunning  rawscal !"  said  the  general ;  but 
he  set  him  free.  The  next  day  the  regular  trial  judge 
arrived,  but  the  prisoner,  the  priest  and  the  general  all 
pointed  out  that  the  man  could  not  be  tried  the  second 
time — nor  was  he! 

These  and  countless  other  untold  stories  show  well 
enough  the  keenness  of  the  red  intellect.  Nor  is  the 
yellow  brain  of  the  Orient  less  observing.  Set  four 
291 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

Japanese  loose  in  an  American  factory  and  they  will 
show  themselves  able  to  go  back  to  their  own  country 
and  reproduce  the  mill.  This  has  happened  a  score 
of  times.  The  imitativeness  of  the  Chinese  is  well 
known. 

Now,  how  about  us  of  the  boasted  white  race?  Are 
our  faculties  of  the  sort  to  carry  us  forward  into 
world  competition,  as  a  nation?  Are  our  individual 
faculties,  are  yours  and  mine,  of  the  sort  to  lead  us  to 
success  in  our  own  occupations  in  our  own  country? 
In  short,  are  you  and  I  observing  in  our  own  environ- 
ment or  any  other?  Some  of  us  are,  and  get  good 
salaries.  Others  of  us  are  not,  and  are  lucky  to  have 
any  salary  at  all.  They  become  the  day  laborers,  the 
hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water,  the  failures 
who  work  under  direction  of  more  observing  minds. 

Most  of  us  travel  in  rather  small  orbits,  and  most 
of  us  are  continually  reminded  to  cut  out  the  useless 
things  of  life  and  to  hang  on  only  to  the  things  im- 
mediately applicable  to  us.  This  is  merely  to  say  that 
modern  civilization  trains  us  to  be  cogs  in  a  machine 
and  not  individuals  in  a  community.  We  live  in  a 
city,  but  we  forget  how  to  live  in  the  world.  We  for- 
get how  to  use  our  eyes,  almost  how  to  use  our 
memories. 

Scientists  tell  us  that  there  are  two  sorts  of  memory, 
the  circumstantial  and  the  philosophical.  Perhaps 
292 


THE  FACULTY  OF  OBSERVATION 

yours  is  the  philosophical  memory,  which  uses  associa- 
tion of  ideas.  Perhaps  your  wife's  is  the  circumstan- 
tial sort,  which  collects  everything  in  the  world,  like 
a  pack-rat.  She  can  tell  you  what  the  weather  was  a 
year  ago,  or  what  necktie  you  wore  three  years  ago, 
or  when  your  cousin's  birthday  comes.  You  cannot 
remember  these  unimportant  things.  Woman's  mem- 
ory is  more  apt  to  be  circumstantial.  She  collects 
things  useful  or  not  useful.  Science  says  she  has 
changed  less  than  her  spouse.  She  ties  us  back  to  the 
days  when  men  and  women  both  had  to  be  observant 
of  the  things  about  them,  or  perish  in  the  struggle  for 
existence. 

Have  you  yourself  really  good  faculties  for  ob- 
servation, indoors  or  out  of  doors?  There  are  suc- 
cessful men  shrewd  in  business  life  who  are  very  dull 
in  outdoor  life.  Indeed,  very  few  white  men  observe 
much  of  what  goes  on  about  them  when  they  are  in 
the  open.  For  the  average  white  man  who  goes  into 
the  wilderness  the  sermons  of  the  stones  are  silent, 
and  the  books  of  the  running  brooks  are  shut.  True, 
he  does  not  need  to  read.  He  pays  down  his  coin  and 
has  some  red  man  or  white  man  read  them  aloud  to 
him.  Many  of  our  great  sportsmen,  so  called,  are  not 
sportsmen  at  all.  They  buy  with  money  the  remedy 
for  their  own  lack  of  skill,  their  own  lack  of  observa- 
tion. As  a  matter  of  fact,  once  a  woman  takes  to  the 
293 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

open,  she  is  apt  soon  to  become  more  minutely  ob- 
servant than  her  husband.  Some  women  have  been 
good  detectives,  some  would  make  good  scouts. 

When  you  are  in  the  open,  camping,  hunting,  trav- 
eling, how  much  do  you  know  ?  How  much  do  you  re- 
member? How  much  can  you  tell  of  the  day's  trail, 
as  you  sit  by  the  campfire  at  night?  How  much  of  a 
map  can  you  make  of  the  country  you  have  crossed? 
How  many  broken  sticks  or  strange  footprints  have 
you  seen?  How  far  from  camp  is  the  clump  of  three 
Norway  pines,  which  were  on  a  hill,  and  on  which 
side  of  the  trail  were  they — and  did  you  see  them  at 
all? 

Send  you  back  over  that  strange  trail  in  the  oppo- 
site direction,  and  you  would  be  lost.  You  would  not 
know  how  far  it  was  to  the  last  camp  back.  All  the 
time  you  were  traveling  you  were  wondering  how  far 
it  was.  Or  you  were  fighting  your  snowshoes  or  your 
pack — or  were  distressed  over  something.  Yet  all  the 
time  your  Indian  or  white  guide  was  seeing  a  hundred 
things  which  did  not  exist  for  your  eye.  If  your 
guide  was  proper  woodsman,  he  could  sit  down  at 
night  and  make  you  a  map  of  the  country  you  had 
crossed,  one  which  any  Indian  could  understand.  It 
was  Indians  who  made  maps  with  charcoal  marks, 
done  on  the  inside  of  buffalo  robes,  which  showed  to 
Lewis  and  Clark  the  passage  of  the  Rockies,  the  dif- 
294 


THE  FACULTY  OF  OBSERVATION 

ferent  divides,  the  way  the  streams  ran.  A  haphazard 
city  man,  taken  across  the  same  country,  could  have 
made  no  intelligent  account  of  it  at  all.  In  short,  the 
stress  of  competition  in  modern  civilized  life  is  wip- 
ing out  the  savage  in  us,  and  making  us  citizens  of 
cities  instead  of  citizens  of  the  great  and  interesting 
world,  which  was  made  for  humanity  to  dwell  in.  In 
the  city  we  see  little  of  the  world  and  only  part  of 
life. 

When  you  go  moose-hunting  in  New  Brunswick, 
caribou-hunting  in  Nova  Scotia,  salmon-fishing  in 
Quebec,  or  duck-shooting  on  the  Western  marshes, 
you  are  in  all  likelihood  reaching  what  you  call  suc- 
cess in  sport  through  the  trained  observation  of  some 
other  man.  In  the  hardest  and  most  relentless  inter- 
pretation of  the  term,  that  is  not  sport  at  all.  When 
you  go  in  a  duck  marsh  and  hire  a  skilled  boat-pusher 
to  put  out  your  decoys  and  build  your  blinds,  after 
selecting  a  shooting  spot,  and  perhaps  to  kill  half 
your  ducks  for  you  as  well,  and  not  complain  when 
you  claim  to  have  shot  the  legal  limit,  or  double  the 
legal  limit,  it  is  dollars  to  doughnuts  that  you  are 
using  his  faculties  of  observation  and  not  your  own; 
and  yet  you  will  go  back  to  your  own  business  and 
wonder  why  you  did  not  succeed  in  it.  There  are  ex- 
ceptions to  this  rule.  I  know  one  very  good  duck- 
shot  and  trout-fisher  who  runs  a  successful  planing 
295 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

mill  against  hard  competition.  One  day  I  was  in  the 
mill,  and  he  showed  me  a  sawing  table  where  boards 
were  cut  off  into  lengths  for  making  boxes.  These 
lengths  dropped  into  carriers  as  fast  as  they  were 
sawn. 

"We  used  to  have  a  flat  table,"  said  he,  "and  when 
the  lengths  were  sawn  an  operator  had  to  push  them 
off  the  table  with  one  hand.  It  took  time.  So  I  just 
dropped  the  ends  of  the  tables  so  they  slanted,  and 
now  the  boards  fall  of  their  own  weight  and  no  one 
has  to  touch  them." 

It  is  little  examples  of  good  observation  like  that 
which  make  some  men  succeed.  Therefore,  whether 
at  home  or  in  the  open,  do  not  scorn  the  humble  art 
of  seeing  things  and  remembering  them,  whether  or 
not  at  the  time  they  seem  useful  in  your  business. 
You  can't  tell  when  they  will  be  useful  in  your  busi- 
ness. That  slant-top  planing-mill  table  may  have  been 
the  results  of  a  study  of  a  mink-track  in  the  mud.  In 
any  case,  it  marked  the  success  of  a  man  who  lived 
not  only  in  a  city,  but  in  a  world. 

Can  you  tell  off-hand  the  color  of  the  mud-hen's 
foot,  or  that  of  a  mallard?  Do  all  mallards  have  feet 
of  the  same  color,  and  is  that  color  yellow  or  red? 
What  is  the  color  of  the  mallard's  bill?  Of  the  mud- 
hen's?  How  many  stripes,  if  any,  does  a  blue-bill 
have  on  its  bill?  How  many  has  the  ring-bill  or 
296 


THE  FACULTY  OF  OBSERVATION 

black-jack?  What  is  the  color  of  the  back  of  each? 
What  is  the  shape  of  the  canvas-back's  bill?  What 
of  that  of  the  red-head?  What  is  the  difference,  if 
any,  in  the  colors  of  the  backs  of  the  red -head,  the 
blue-bill  and  the  canvas-back?  Do  you  know  a  gad- 
wall  from  a  widgeon,  or  a  gray-duck  from  either? 
How  many  species  of  song-birds  do  you  know  in  your 
own  neighborhood?  Do  they  all  migrate?  At  what 
time  does  each  species  appear  in  the  spring?  If  you 
were  an  Indian  you  could  answer  all  these  questions. 

Can  you  draw  a  picture  of  a  duck  and  put  its  hind 
legs  on  at  the  right  place?  Can  you  do  the  same  for 
a  prairie  chicken?  Does  a  prairie  chicken  have 
feathers  clean  down  to  its  toes?  What  is  the  shape 
of  its  tail?  Can  you  put  on  the  ears  of  a  moose  in 
the  right  place,  or  the  horns  of  an  antelope,  or  the 
eyes  of  a  woodcock?  Do  you  know  how  long  a  buf- 
falo's tail -is? 

Can  you  tell  a  mink's  track  from  a  muskrat's?  Can 
you  tell  a  skunk  from  a  coon,  or  a  lynx  from  a  wolver- 
ine, or  a  fox  from  a  coyote,  or  a  wolf  from  a  dog, 
by  the  record  either  leaves  in  the  snow  or  the  sand? 

Do  you  know  a  gum-tree  from  a  maple,  or  a  maple 
from  an  ash,  or  an  ash  from  hackmatack,  or  a  hack- 
matack from  a  beech,  or  a  beech  from  a  birch,  or  a 
birch  from  a  maple,  or  an  oak  from  an  elm,  or  a 
sycamore  from  a  basswood?  Can  you  name  each  of 
297 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

these  when  you  see  it  in  the  woods  by  itself?  Do  you 
know  a  pine  from  a  spruce,  or  a  spruce  from  a  bal- 
sam, or  a  balsam  from  a  fir,  or  a  fir  from  a  hemlock  ? 
Can  you  tell  each  on  sight  ? 

Do  you  know  which  way  the  shank  of  a  spur  bends, 
up  or  down?  Why  are  the  jinglers  on  a  spur?  Which 
is  the  longer  canoe  paddle,  bow  or  stern,  and  why? 
Can  you  cinch  a  saddle  without  a  buckle  so  it  will  not 
slip?  What  is  an  ear-bridle?  How  long  is  a  cow- 
puncher's  rope  in  Texas?  In  Arizona?  In  Califor- 
nia ?  How  many  cinches  does  a  saddle  have  in  Texas  ? 
In  California?  Why  does  a  dog  have  a  tail?  Why 
does  a  deer  have  a  splint  on  its  leg,  and  which  leg  car- 
ries it?  Can  you  mend  the  lock  of  your  rifle  or  shot- 
gun, and  do  you  know  how  either  works  ?  Which  way 
do  the  top  of  hemlock-trees  point  in  your  country? 
Do  you  know  poison  oak  and  poison -ivy?  Do  you 
know  nut-grass  when  you  see  it,  or  smart-weed  when 
you  see  it?  Do  you  know  a  bull-moose  track  from 
that  of  a  cow,  and  can  you  tell  which  way  it  is  going 
in  snow  three  feet  deep? 

Any  Indian,  any  good  guide  can  answer  every  such 
question  regarding  the  features  and  creatures  of  his 
own  country.  If  you  had  to  make  a  living  in  the  wil- 
derness, you  would  know  all  of  these  things  and  a 
thousand  more.  You  would  observe  a  thousand  things 
unconsciously.  Not  living  in  the  world,  but  in  the 
298 


THE  FACULTY  OF  OBSERVATION 

city,  we  get  lost  when  we  go  out  into  the  world,  show 
ourselves  ignorant,  helpless,  sometimes  hopeless. 

This  faculty  of  observation  varies  in  different  men. 
It  is  not  a  thing  absolute  in  any  man.  I  would  not 
trust  any  two  judges  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the 
United  States  to  report  a  dog  fight  in  the  same  way. 
Indeed,  our  eyes  and  ears  and  nerves  lie  to  us  all  the 
time.  Cross  the  first  two  fingers  of  your  right  hand, 
hold  a  bullet  in  your  left  hand,  and  let  it  rest  between 
the  tips  of  the  two  crossed  fingers  of  the  right.  You 
distinctly  feel  two  bullets,  and  yet  you  see  but  one. 
Put  three  fingers  in  the  middle  of  your  wife's  back 
and  ask  her  how  many  there  are.  Not  even  her 
prescience  can  always  tell  accurately.  No  two  men 
see  the  same  adjustment  in  a  transit  or  level,  or  see 
the  same  rifle  sights  alike.  We  have  a  proverb  that 
seeing  is  believing.  Yet  very  likely  offhand  you  can- 
not tell  the  color  of  your  wife's  eyes. 

And  yet  we  boast  the  proudest  civilization  of  the 
world.  With  half  our  faculties  atrophied,  finding  our 
way  home  at  night  by  a  row  of  street  lamps,  where 
once  our  grandfather  had  to  pick  his  way  along  the 
ridge  road  between  the  marshes,  under  the  starlight — 
where  we  would  be  totally  lost  in  half  a  minute — we 
are  apt  to  pity  Grandpa,  and  look  down  on  benighted 
savages  who  never  saw  a  town.  Unused,  our  manual 
dexterity  is  forsaking  us — we  are  no  longer  handy 
299 


OUT  OF  DOORS 

men,  able  to  make  anything  around  camp.  Unused, 
our  faculties  of  observation  desert  us.  We  do  not  see 
the  record  written  all  around  us  in  the  woods.  Even 
when  the  page  is  writ  large  and  fair,  as  after  a  deep 
white  snow,  not  all  of  us  can  read  the  writing  done 
on  it  by  Nature.  We  know  a  few  little  things  and 
hold  ourselves  wise.  And  because  we  do  know  so  few, 
and  care  so  little  to  know  more  little  things,  most  ofv 
us  have  in  our  planing  mills  the  same  flat-top  table 
and  we  push  the  blocks  off  by  hand.  Most  of  us  work 
along  stolidly,  stupidly,  wishing  someone  to  raise  our 
salaries  and  wondering  why  we  do'  not  succeed,  as  so 
many  others  have.  Yet  all  the  time  we  are  doing 
what  some  more  observing  man  has  taught  us  and  told 
us  how  to  do. 

And  yet  all  this  time  we  do  not  live  in  a  city — we 
live  in  a  world.  The  city  masses  men.  The  out-of- 
doors  makes  individuals  of  them,  men  of  them.  It 
is  much  to  be  doubted  if  the  moving-picture  show,  the 
tango,  and  the  colored  comic  Sunday  supplement  will 
do  more  to  building  us  up  as  a  race  of  useful,  think- 
ing men  than  would  a  course  of  study  not  in  the  wavs 
of  the  city,  but  in  the  ways  of  the  outdoor  world. 
The  fox  boasted  of  his  lost  tail,  and  said  it  was  the 
fashion  where  he  came  from.  But  that  was  amputa- 
tion and  could  be  explained.  It  was  a  different  thing 
from  atrophy,  and  a  thing  less  ominous. 
300 


THE  FACULTY  OF  OBSERVATION 

One  thing  seems  true,  while  on  this  subject  of  mud- 
hens'  feet  and  mallards'  bills,  and  red  Indian  philoso- 
phy— and  that  is,  that  we  cannot  correct  conditions 
in  our  civilization.  All  we  can  do  is  to  correct  and 
improve  the  individuals  who  make  up  that  civilization. 
All  we  can  do  is  to  give  wider  and  fuller  and  wiser 
lives  to  individual  men  and  women.  The  individual 
'life,  the  faculty  of  individual  observation,  the  per- 
sonal wealth  of  knowledge  and  character,  which  can- 
not be  taken  away — these  are  things  also  worth  while. 
We  cannot  all  of  us  take  to  the  wilderness  to  live, 
much  as  some  of  us  would  like  that.  But  whether  we 
go  there  or  not,  we  can  cultivate  in  ourselves,  perhaps, 
that  kind  of  observation  which  applies  equally  to  a 
mink  track  in  the  mud,  and  to  a  slant-top  table  in  a 
planing  mill. 

(i) 


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